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.
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