There is nothing valuable left in my life but the words from my hands and my heart.

Caring words run off her skin like water,
A granite heart repels every kindness shown.

We forget those closest to our hearts,
Drive away those who know us best,
And betray those who love us most.

Hellfire of crimson
Bloodlust so red
Vampirical dreams that haunt the undead

As I stumbled with tears in my eyes I asked of the Raven; "What is this forsaken place?"
"Life" he replied.

The black quill in my hand
Moves of it's own accord,
The Ravens last earthly thoughts,
Expressed in inky words.

The ice around my heart has melted and turned to tears,
When I have cried every one my heart will be bare for all to see.

Depression may not be a fatal disease,
But it can kill as effectively as cancer.

Upon my grave lies not a rose, for none remember my name,
And on the headstone are written the words, She died for her love in vain.

I wish my heart came with a receipt, then I could exchange mine for something useful, a conscience for example