Death

“The leaves are growing back

Seems like it's been forever

And if loving me keeps you alive

Then you will love me never.

And if seeing me will change your mind

I'll be sure to brush my hair.

Death awaits and draws me near

And I'll pull up a chair.

Talk a bit

Laugh and fuss

Try and negotiate

What's his is no longer mine

They claim that it is fate.

The way my bones whither in the cold

It is a sad sight to see

There is nothing left to hold

I am no longer me.

Faint eyes

One last sigh

Take me on my way.

Cause if being here means being away

Than I cannot dare to stay.”