| tHE PasSInG... |
| her pretty body full of death, and from her lips pours frozen breath, but you see her as before, as her icey hand slips into yours. it's been an age, and you were but a child, when you last saw your sweetheart smile. you now recall the eerie calm, as she faded in your arms. now she holds you gently near, because she sensed the scent of fear. her whispered words; they mean so much, as your body crumbles into dust. that silent wartime night she passed, you never knew would be her last, and as the zepelins flew above, on the horizon; coulds red as blood. so many years you longed to see, the so-familiar smile she wore with glee, and yet her eyes forever stared, into that place; she waited there. a distant cloud, a hazy light, you drifted closer through the night, and as the cold air filled your lungs, you knew you'd grown forever young. your handsome form was greeting death, her frozen kiss stayed on your breath, and as she held you, as she'd done before, her icey hand slipped into yours, and forever in her soft embrace, you gazen upon her chalk-white face, and so relieved to feel her touch, those whispered words; they meant so much. |