Death could be beautiful
Like a rose red as blood,
Or fog swirling through a graveyard,
Or a fire in the woods.
Death might be pleasurable,
Like a lover's first kiss,
Or the moment of climax;
Yes, death could be bliss.

Dying is sacred,
Yet held in my hands.
These scars on my wrists?
You could never understand.
Sorrow is sweet;
It fills up the hollows,
Eats up the emptiness,
In which I am swallowed.

Immortality is possible
If you can let go
Of the material world
Follow my lead and know-
For I''ve been astral-travelling
Through my myriad thoughts;
The feelings flowing through me
Are traps. I am caught.

Someone has cast a spell on me,
Snared me in a web.
Though I realize I can't free myself,
I'll fight until I'm dead,
And if I must leave a legacy,
Let it be but thus:
Death is sorrow and it's beautiful
For it connects all of us...