I loved it when alive
and now so cold.
I crave it more,
to be contented
just like me;
if just a breath
it speaks i should
love it like
when it lived.
Until the grave
it buried lay,
in it’s dreams,
and all my tears
i have the key
to unlock the life
that lives in me.
It lives within
a drop of tear.
If I may have it
when it’s dead,
I crave it more
if it speaks.
I should love it
like when it lived.
:: 11-11-2014 ::
