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...
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