Death's Mistress

Where do you turn
when death lurks in the corner,
and someone who said they love you
placed him there?
Who is there to love you
except the sweet pleasant blade
that kisses your tender flesh
with blissful drops of blood.
Death is a comfort,
he'll hold you forever
close to his heart,
black though it may be.
He'll hold you,
and soothe your tears.
Just soothe the aching knife
that begs for your blood.
My blood.
I'm dying.
I'm running to death's arms.
He can hold me
and I'll escape from this world
into his arms.
His sweet cloak.
His vicious scythe.
He is kissing me...
He is loving me...
and now I am death's mistress.