This is arrivederci
But not even you could catch the double entendre
Of how death is definite, on my own and suddenly I feel so lo.
I draw my (s)words
With a conscience-stricken heart struck by a dagger of grief
Belief, what is belief, when the walls you've built collapse without putting on a fight
I feel but when I speak and I'm labeled as 'soft' plus technology tends to obliterate empathy
My life is in ruins, like a nine year' old's monday morning without his mother.
In a split second I may cease to exist
My soul breaks as my heartbeat pounds.
When you are at a 'die end' death tastes sweet
It tastes like the Sabbath; holy & pure
Life is for the living
But the dead are worth more than the living, hence the amount of flowers they receive
But gratitude fails to deceive, and it may be a result of self-reproachful
Because regret is stronger than gratitude.
P