Death follows me.
Don't you see.
Eye twitch.
Reminisce.
There's another tragedy.
Sitting on the edge of reality.
In the darkness.
Voices of a whisper.
Is this how my demons speak?
When these lives like flowers start to wither?
When sadness grows like a vine starting to creep?
Laying here drowning in the memory flood.
Wishing that this liquid on my skin wasn't blood.
The closer you get.
The more you love.
You better run.
Cause there's a reaper chasing me looking for someone.

© ZyhrenSong