I'm in my bed, alone,
The darkness is sufficating,
It lays over me like a lead blanket,
I hate when night takes over day,
The moon comes out and the sun goes away,
Coolness of the night is no longer the comforting
Reminder of your apperance any more.

I loved the night once,
Loved it more than intimacy,
The moon lighting up your face,
The darkness drawing me
Closer to your touch.

Then the sun came, you left,
And I was once again alone,
The day was then my enemy,
But now some how it's the only time
Of the twenty four hours in a day, that I wish to live in.

Even though the sun, blew your ashes
Into the wind, making recovery impossible,
I now worship it,
The moon is who I wish would banish forever,
For when it baths my skin in it's luminouse light,
It brings memories of you to my mind.

The memories thick as blood,
Clouding my mind with it's thick,
Red walls,
Walls that keep me in a state of doom, and dread,
Yes, the memories are like your blood, sweet, thick and empowering.

The memories are dead, dried,
Like blood caked on my hands
The memories are dead just as you are.

I peer over to my window,
The sky a fresh crisp blue,
No longer a brooding black
The moon gone and the sun now rules over the sky.

The sun has risen,
Your dead,
Dust in the wind,
Dried blood,

Now its time to bury memories,
Wash my hands of your blood,
Cleanse my mind of your being.