Cupid's Door

There's a hole in my heart that's black and wet. As I'm waiting for my doctor to cut and set. While I'm fearing that a lover could get too close. As my shame is that of dying and is much verbose. While I'm waiting for my death to fast approach. That my comfort comes in knowing there's no one to coach. When the pain begins to numb to a calming rest. That I'm anxious of a sleep knowing it's my best. When I hear off in the distance a familiar voice. To awaken to my seeing without a choice. When surrounded by the others that I've know before. More than now, I've come to realize I'm through Cupid's door.