Grim Reaper Love.

Dip my heart in alcohol,
shroud my veins with shame.

Fill my head like corpses in a
shed. I hang my pain in a frame.

My lips are burnt from your lips,
I am craving the taste of death.

I start to choke, with your tongue in
my throat. You rasp, "I'm not done with you yet."

You Reap me happily with a smile,
so Grim is your intent.

Your scythe cuts deep, within my cheek,
a light peck from the "Angel of Death".

And now I float gladly, through the river Styx,
and to think I got my wish...

Death by perfect kiss....