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Dying Rosebud

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Dying rosebud

In the mist of a fading morning
Down in the alley of death
I am saving myself
From his utter destruction

His colossal whispers
To his unending blurts of wraths
I care no one, I care for my heart

For he has no heart at all
For he is black inked soul
My demise shall compromise
For my cadaver shall be his prize

I am but I am
I am but weak
I am always trap in his tricks
For my head was a foolish!

I am but a dying rose bud
Young but counting my days
Sound but dying
Happy but sad.

© 2019 Crezyl