well this poem is dark but heyy why not?
is a irregular kind,
for it has to do with the dead,
and putting this bullet through my head.
Of course, this love is all about death,
Overdosing, murders and suicides,
will you let me drink this cyanide?
I want to be with this love of mine.
Crows will carry souls,
as they will do to mine,
Razors letting me bleed,
this is no want,it is my need.
For all my friends and foes,
and for all those corpses that rose,
Death has that bottersweet taste that i crave,
I am nothing but deaths slave.
Death makes my heart melt,
melt till it bleeds,
Death is not only my love but also my creed.
Dead is nothing more than i want to be.
It has everything i dont want to miss.
I can only trust that love of his.
Death lets me be,
and it is the only love for me.