Blop, blop,
the sounds rings through the empty room,
the gash on my wrist flooding to fill the void off my sweet life blood,
it seeps out of the wound, and falls to the ground,

like rain, but the rain is red and sweet,
like poisoned wine, ironic really,
you drink the wine and die,
you lose the wine you die,
my sweet wine, spilled in a puddle on the floor,
sooin i shall collapse and join it in unholy matrimony

© plaaaaaant