The haunting stench of mistakes made and past,

Lest I forget and begin to heal when its so alive and real,

To grow out of the overbearing sense of guilt,

A stem that holds thorns without the presence of a rose,

A winter that produces only freezing rain,

Like words lost in a summer breeze,

Begin to come back and punish with the familiar song,

A heart once beating and alive,

A black vessel of deceit and good intention,

How a heart so full of passion yet a mind so blank,

I leave this world bitter and unsatisfied in a dreadful haste,

So kiss me softly and hold on to the person I once was,

Love me to death and put me to rest,