The destroyed me...

Love is death

On my death bed,I called you..

You who claim to know me more than myself..

You who tried to heal my wounds,though the salve was poison..

Did you know,I was ready to leave everything behind,even to the point killing myself,

Just to be the lover you wanted..

For you I silenced my roar,and became a dog,waging tail to you..

Yes,you never forgot what you did for me..

And you never remember what you did to me..

I was just a mystery to solve for you,at that time,when you knew fingers were already raised upon you..

I was just a veil you put,to hide yourself,behind the curtain of love and care..

Love is suicide,I knew,yet I dare,to bare,to bear..

Even when turning back,I see nothing,still I wish to die and scatter..

The killer of mine,is your hands untainted,the hand by which you wipe the pictures of the Goddess you worship?

Is your voice so pure,that voice that could push someone who loved you to death?

Are you finally happy,after seeing the destroyed mystery called me?

Then why are you standing by my grave,trying to copy,and rewrite a tormenting story again?

Are you in need of a pair of arms today,to hold you up and tell you,it's okay..

Are you interested in buying love,with money again?

Do you wish to have someone to show how superior you are,how kind you are,how sweet you are,

After strangling someone to death?