Can you look past these dreadful scars,
Mere trademarks of every human creature,
To see that in my eyes there are still stars,
And in my tears there is still gold so pure?

I lie in this black snow, frozen to the bone;
But I am not broken, I await resurrection,
A soft kiss to keep me from becoming stone
And a smile to melt the frost of crimson.

The crows taunt me from that tree stem,
And with all my blood spilling from me,
My pale arm reaches weakly out to them,
Begging them to delay my final tragedy.

Won't you hurry, for the crows are hungry!
It is they who my bittersweet death predict
So that they can feast on my flesh in glory
And savour my heart and mind's conflict.

Isn't the blood pretty on the black snow?
Admire the beauty of my mutilated heart
And the paleness of my creased brow,
For you are late, and now forever we part.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AN: Heh. . .I don't know what to think of this. . .the meaning isn't too
clear but I suppose this can be interpreted in different ways. Toodles!
Leave a review. . . I've been quite depressed lately, lol.