Suicidal Maiden
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I have died a thousand deaths,
Suffered a hundred agonies.
I have tasted the nectar of delight,
I swam the ocean of ecstasy.
Nothing cuts so deep,
Nor soothes so purely,
As the three words you struggle to say
Each and every blessed night we speak.
What stops you then?
Wounds of the past?
That I could brush my fingers over them
Make them as they never were.
That I could but soothe the Suicidal Maiden,
Afloat within her own blood to grow a black rose.
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© Shattered Silver, 2008-10-17
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