How I love to feel the fade,
And smell the passing of decay.
To be buried deep inside of June,
Sleep past Septembers bloody swoon.
Curse the curse that cut my heart,
To bleed it soft into the dark,
Black and blue so Grimm and bold,
That faded quiet in the room of cold.
Sleep that sleep through day and night,
Tucked neatly in his bed so tight,
Held close from Twenty One to sway,
That gave me love to take away.
Counting moons that pass me by,
To find my grief inside a lie.
So die my love with all I knew...
To find it all was less than truth.
My hand laid hard upon the chest,
Caressing Grimm's inked emptiness,
And sleep I where I wish not sleep,
Lost in dreams I cannot keep.
