Close the door behind you, when you decide to leave
Whether I survive or not, don’t want you to see me bleed,The rainbows rays are fading, against a darkened sky,
Rain comes falling down like tears, never ask me why.
The roses petals fall away, as the wind does pass this way,
There is silence in this world of ours, there’s a sense of pure dismay.
This world of mine hangs in doubt, scared of whats gone wrong,
The darkness is music to these ears, like a tune without a song.
Sweetly sing that song of yours, alas it’s all too late,
For I have died and you have gone, heaven has shut the gate.
Author Steve Boddey aka "Whitesnake"
Posted for Poetry Pantry
1 comment:
I would love to see what this speaker's tale would look like in short story form. I'm curious to see how phrases like "don't you want to see me bleed" and "The darkness is music to these ears" would translate. A wonderful poem. I removed the link from a Pantry of Prose because it is not a short story.
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