Play silly games with my head
Play them well
Steal my heart
drop it
break it
rip it
.....crush it into oblivion
Show me your face
I wish to see my killer
Your mask is cracking
Your costume is ripping
Is this, what I see, the reason you hide?
Please do not fear
I am a dying maid
Who am I to tell?
Why does such beauty hide?
Or is this another game?
You play games so well.
Why am I crying you ask?
You would do the same if you saw an angel standing before you......
and then she killed you.
Lay next to me dear.
I feel my soul withering.
The blackness I have always feared.
Finally I face it.
Why do I still hold you you ask?
Because......My heart is dying in your hand
Do not give it back, love
I would rather not have something returned so rugged as that
Stay.....please.....
Yes.....I am asking you to stand and watch me die......
I am telling you.....
You, the last person to ever hear me breathe.......
Cry with me......
One last time, play your game......
Cradle that withered organ you have in your hand......
I love you, my killer........
.....good-bye......
 Chercheur de la Mort · Mon Aug 14, 2006 @ 03:10pm · 4 Comments |
