Death’s cold grasp wraps his fingers
Around my throat
And as my life slips away
All I can seem to do
Is think of you
Of how you feel
When you hold me close
The smell of your hair
The warmth of your touch
I hope you can forgive me
For giving up
Death’s cold grasp wraps his fingers
Around my throat
And all I can seem to do
Is think of you…
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The window into my dark demented heart
My demonic mind will fill these pages with the most gruesome thoughts i can muster.
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ChristineVictoriaCapulett
Community Member |
