
01-27-2011, 05:20 PM
Your presence wilts the roses,
The alive become undead,
We only can sense your closeness,
Before its too late,
But if you can hear me now,
Speak undead,
Tell me why you are here and wilt me,
I am a precious rose,
Undead, you revolt me,
I despise you,
Undead,
Only after you are present,
I babble up the brook,
You take me by suprise, undead,
And wilt me,
Now you look,
And see me wilted,
This precious rose,
I sense your presence,
It's way to close undead,
Undead,
I'm wilted.
|