December Mourn

I can hear their voices, they're in my head, "You Emo ****, you're better of Dead!" Aw sweetheart, there isn't a place I'd rather be, then to rot forever, in Hell's misanthropy! This world I lived in became so bleak or was it I that turned out weak? Wait does it matter, if at all It's just to postpone the inevitable call. A Christmas dream; the wish of Death, Nothing more then a dance with Seth, Yet like that, my corpse to ogle Disgust, no pity where the blade cut the vogle. Then I ask, "Why wish me dead? Is it only to end my Emo stead? Either way with Her I wed, A wasted life for all Her pled..." Then it came that gorgeous sight; Twisted trees ripping the Eye, Shinning dulled from the blackened sky, A sight sole on Heaven's night... What they call suicide, I called salvation...