I can't live life, <br />When death beckons, <br />me with such mouth-watering temptations, <br />I want to feed on the blood of the unholy, <br />I want to see the pain, <br />that's not just my own. <br />Death empathizes not, <br />instead Crushes my bones, <br /> <br />Dusty remnants of me, <br />spread with the wind, <br />my words faint, <br />but there still on the end of this pen, <br />Flowing freely, <br />even when the Crimson hand that once held it, <br />is no longer worthy. <br /> <br />'I cannot live happy, <br />If I Cannot Die the same.' <br /> <br />I cannot find reasons within sorrow, <br />Nor can I through the pain, <br />I just need your gentle hand, <br />To lunge your words but centimeters deeper, <br />within this crimson frame. <br /> <br />The most meaningful kill, <br />because of the hands, <br />and such love drenched steel, <br />We embrace for one moment, <br />I wished to be eternity, <br />then slowly I fell away, <br />and faded into the name, <br />you cannot think of, <br />let alone whisper when you think of pain.<br /><br />Crimson Love<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pain-692/
