I wish I could see you-
Every moment till I die...

I’d sit in my room fiery but ever placid,
Wishing I knew a kindred shadow...

Can’t you see she's dead?
That laughing girl you knew...

Death calls to the middle aged man,
He’s sick of life’s pointless fight...

It has an old fasioned way of writing throughout...
Dear...

Let us look at it with logic,
Let us try to analyse it...

Stabbed with an icicle to tare me apart,
Fire held in my chest-flames at his wrist...

I hate pretending im ok
I hate the repetition every day...

Sitting all alone
Staring at the clock...

All the heat and fire and flame
Coursing through my every vein...

So it’s late once more,
Three? Four? I can’t tell for sure...

Trees with autumn leaves
Gold and orange and red...