Azrael....
The sirens sing your name
in ways that bring the angels
and the demons to their knees.
They cannot help that they have fallen.
Your name stills the heart,
silences their breath,
culls the flame of longing from their loins.
And nevertheless you too will come to manure,
This horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sun of my nature,
You, my angel and passion!
Yes! That's what you'll be, O queen of the graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you are choked with the grown-over grasses,
And mold made of your remnants.
Alas, O my beauty! Tell the worms,
When it's you their kisses get a taste of,
That I have guarded your divine essence and form
With all of my decomposed love.
suppose
Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a piece of money held between
his thumb and first finger
(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i
say to you who are silent.--"Do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody something about les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes--oh hear
, pas chères")
and my love slowly answered I think so. But
I think I see someone else
there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender;
likes flowers.
RigaMortus2 said:Hehe, that's a little "graveyard humor"
(5 points to anyone who knows what game that is from)