Don't be afraid of my death. I died long ago. I died years ago, but you brought me back to life. You somehow rose me from the dead. You were my miracle worker. BUt I should have known better. Even Satan was an angel once. You gave me wings to rip them apart. I was left shredded and bare upon the floor. I began to bleed. More then any rose could ever compare. I did not wear a crown of thorns on my head. Rather thorns pierced my heart. You broke me after I gave you what little hope and love I had. I gave you my world and you only dropped it on to the floor with invisible hands. Letting the glass shatter and every glitter and shimmer of hope to spread across the cold wooden floors. I cried to you with black tears running down my face, but you only turned away. I bled for you, I gave my heart for you I gave my body and soul for you.
Yet I was a ghost for you to walk past on. What happened? I was your angel, yet you took my wings from me. My fingers tremble and my body is covered with nothing but a thin coat of sweat from all the heart wrenching pain.
I have no voice. For you took my screams. You took my heart you took my love.
My love to you lyes like an aged, and dried up rose. Always living, smell is faint. Beauty is gone. Looks lifeless although my heart keeps beating on and on.
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