I'll scream into the darkness,
I'll cry out your name,
I'll beg God to save you,
but I know you're not doing the same.

You're dead.
You died.
When you said you'd be here,
you lied.

Your eyes are closed,
your skin is cold.
You're laying in your casket,
staying young, but growing old.

Your calloused hands
are laying on your chest,
and you're forever sleeping,
forever at rest.

Your once lively face
is now pale, now still.
Your face is no longer
filled with utter thrill.

Your beautiful laugh
is nothing but lost air.
But of this,
you are not aware.

Gone with the wind
are the words you once said.
Your words are just like you.
That's right. They're dead.

Your once soft, pink lips,
are now rough, now blue,
never to speak
words anew.

The dimples you had
shall never again be formed.
As a result of your laughter,
your cheeks shall never again be warmed.

The flowers around your grave
are slowly dying,
the bird shit on your tombstone
is slowly drying.

Your body is slowly fading,
the body I used to hold.
The young body of sixteen,
already growing so old.

You're slowly decomposing,
slowly becoming mere dust.
Sitting by your grave
is a must.

I said I wouldn't leave you,
I promised you as you died.
I'm promising you again,
because I wouldn't have lied.

You made me promise I wouldn't leave,
that I'd be with you as you turned to dust.
And so sitting here next to your grave
is a must.

I'm here,
just like I said.
I'm here,
even though you're dead.

You're dead.