The fall

Blood spills from the bristles
of a brush that paints its canvas
Pints that once were living
have now piled up in waste
I think I'll paint myself a picture
The black and grey combine
I'm dining on the emptiness
I'll chase it down with wine
Light like a feather
I take breeze and ride it
until it dies
And dead like me
you'll never be
your life made well by lies
The clever disposition
that's torn me from my cloud
like evening falling on the sun
my body wears a shroud
Cover up the dead my darling!
Disappear the night
like losing all the vital pieces
a tired soul takes flight