Kiss the moon goodnight, its cloud cover warm and heavy.
The sun shivers on the horizon and then it happens.
The candle flame is blown out. The sun never rises.
Death.

It hovers in the shadows like an eager lover.
Undressing your life with its sharp eyes, a tender touch of life, gone.
Their tears fall, grief defined for what was expected but not.
Death.

You ugly bitch. Turning pink into rot. Turning dreams into blank stillness.
I wanted to live. To breathe life. Now we roam among the stars. Married to you.
Below is the mistress of life, to never keep.

Death. We fear you. We run. We hide. Yet, like the pain of heartbreak, you find us.
© All Rights Reserved