Miracles Aren't Real

Party for the Dead

Just mourn the living,

embrace the dead.

Death is just a gift from life,

its like the final clap from a croud as the curtains close,

much like your eyes,

the final gaurantee,

The final stage of the dying and the damned,

The Cursed and the Broken

Life is just the bitch that laughed at you,

the one that put you down, and that person that broke your heart

Its all just a game, isn't it?!?

An epic murder,

where only few can stay for long

You have to fake it to make it in this world,

But I don't want to fake it!

not anymore

I refuse to wear those dull masks,

and those cold, metal chains

all for a few moments of joy

Because in the end,

we all die, fallen,

Some wearing a smirk on their face,

some, curled up in a corner, sobbing their last words

'I DON'T WANT TO MAKE IT!'

as the final deathly will

All of the moments they had in vain, fading into the nothingness,

as flesh greys, blackens,

and black, lifeless eyes sink,

and muscles stiffen in a permanent, somber embrace