Suicide Of My Heart

Looking at the sky,
the moon is blood red.
The smell of suicide filled the air,
the wind giving me a chill.

Looking at the flowers,
everything had an awful silence.
Touching the river with a cautious hand,
listening to the frogs croak.

Smiling at the stars,
knowing some thing's coming before it does.
Touching your face,
grabbing your hand.

Never knowing heaven on Earth was possible,
until I kissed your lips.
Figuring that the smell of suicide was,
the suicide of my heart.