I've loved too many,
They all walk upon my withered soul...

I sit on the edge of a brook,
Thinking various things aloud...

Kiss me hard,
Hold me down...

The shackles return
And bear the memories...

Withered flowers of love resurrect at the sight of...
Habitability becomes prominent in a heart promised...

Provocative clothing teases the eyes
As they roam over gyrating bodies...

Wake me from my dreams
Where I cower in fear, as I look for light...

Sacrificial beauty caresses my lips
Every inch and crevice a treat...

Alone and frightened to her wit's end
Broken she lays upon the wooden floor...

We remain in such tragic silence,
We once poured out our love into the night sky...

To love Death would be the simplest task,
For I would give anything to break from my past...

My clock has ceased its obnoxious ticking,
It has yet to echo once more...