Antique
Your love shown like an antique bloodstain on the dress of our decay.
You pushed your hand through
the over grown garden to crush the final living rose.
Blood seeped from your pores.
We held hands on our last night on earth.
We dance on the graves of loved ones lost.
And we kissed under the trees
and under the sky.
We sold our souls to the vampire in our dreams.
We sung about broken hearts and lost souls as we cried.
We were never meant to be.
You can take these tears.
Watch the blood drenched TV screen flicker with anticipation.
Dancing in our sorrow.
And singing in unrivaled beauty.
Copyright © Jennifer Raymond | Year Posted 2005
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