what a gorgeous tragedy;
letting the lady death steal
the life i try to draw my breath from,
playing a melody on this flute and violin
that cuts deeper than the northern winds
that sink their icy teeth into my warm arm,
flowing with living blood,
yet tainted with black mildew that kills,
all while singing this ear-wrecking song -
waiting for no-one to hear,
or see these burning tears
while the pile of the forgotten ones
draws me forward, pulls me so close in,
God, i do not want to fade into
nonexistence
leaving no meaningful trail behind
except these long forgotten poems
that mark that i once tried
to fool the lady death,
to stay behind after i die.