Death in Paradise
We lay in a bed of roses
Ignorance.
We forgot about the thrones
Naive.
They stabbed your back
Instant.
And slit your throat
Pain.
Your heart lies beating in the grass
Idle.
Warm blood dyes the petals
Soft.
I hold your hand
Cold.
You smile at me
Habituate.
You tie a rose around my neck
Choke.
Blood runs down
Kill.
We lay in a bed of roses.
Dead.
[em]
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Blind Poets
PoetryPoetry for those who find both comfort and discomfort in the dark. - Em Instagram: @em.g_4 WARNING This book includes references to sensitive topics such as suicide, depression, struggles with mental health and so on.
