The rain begins to fall now,
Sweet, clear drops.
I'm getting wet sat here now,
Though I care not
And the crimson isk is running,
Seeping,
Bleeding.
Leaving dark raised welts upon the pale white page,
Like deep, bloody scratches upon a lovers back
The rain is falling heavy now,
Burning into me.
Into my stinging eyes now,
Though still clear, I see
The headstones, old as she, crying,
Weeping,
Bleeding.
Stained by many rains now gone...
Gone...
Gone like those that had once mourned...
When it had seemed like a good idea...
at the time...
When flowers ang gifts were left...
And words were spoken..
Whispered lies
The rain is slowing, stopping now.
The clear, crisp smell.
I sit and smile now,
Laughing to myself.
The patterned streaks of blood red ink, drying,
Crying,
Bleeding,
Tears now lost.
Tears long dry.
All faith lost,
In Christian lies.
A faith I've never known.
The broken promise of flowers,
Left dying on the stone.
Upon this strangers grave,
I place a blood red rose,
And speak to them this poem,
This patterned web of prose
I thank you for your company,
Amongst this silent place.
Were family and friends once came,
No more they show their face.
i don't know how long i can hold my heart in two
