Under the stary sky, the sun has just set.
I wonder, as I lie on my back, barely breathing and
bleeding.
The silver thread, I believe it's called the moon, gives the
impression of a brightness I've never seen before.
Spirits with wings, I wish I could fly.
"You will" someone whispered in my ear, I sigh,
someone watches, I blink and when my eyes open I see an
apparation of such beauty I can't keep my tears from
falling.
Her pale lips shine, her gauze wings glow and the scythe she
carries resembles the moon that hangs above.
"Who are you?" I ask, already knowing.
She slowly dropped to her knees and carresed my cheek.
Her black long hair covers us both as a blanket, her lips
brush mine, my eyes slip closed, her hands hold my
shoulders. Where did the scythe go.
She kisses me again. I open my mouth. She strokes all of me,
I sob and pleed... Please let me die.
My eyes open at their own accord, she stands beside me, her
pale face grim. her black hair like a vail, covering only
her.
She stares at the ground, I follow her gaze.
I see something that hould be wrong.
I see the vessel that held my soul lie on the dark ground,
the blood flowing like a crimson river. I turn to her and
ask.
"Now what?"
She lifts her head , looks at me and says:
"Me".