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Rated: · Poetry · Death · #1359699
and they would breathe upon their death
I need a white page
To hear them all cry for death
They wouldn't steal medicine
They wouldn't dare to live.

A pen to help me with it
To bind them together and throw it
I'd stab them all, I'll tell them
This is what you get for reminding me.

Your memories will remain
Your secrets still untold
But you will die and suffer eternally
As you fall in perpetual death.

You can run and hide from me
But you'll find yourself running to me
I won't begin a mystery
You're enough and you'll always be.

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