by Edan Wright

Created on: March 17, 2009   Last Updated: December 13, 2010

Is this the way ...

The cold blade traces every inch,

 of where love used to lay.

A whisper escapes me ....

None there to hear,

I wish I was brave,

make my way to the grave.

Oh how I dread the morning light ,

Much more then I dread this life.

It does not welcome my likeness.

Lay me in darkness so I can dream.

Take my breath ...

I dream of days no more,

I dream of crawling at deaths door.

Death is creeping all around me,

Tempting my hollow soul.

Clawing at my thoughts, save me.

But my blood flows creeping, slow.

Where death goes I can not follow.

An opportunity missed.

Still I dream of deaths soft kiss,

upon my dying heart.

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