She comes to me unwillinglynI take her hands and hold them tightnHer eyes are sad, as if they hadnSeen all bad and not a single rightnnThe last few years were filled with tearsnFirst of joy, but now of griefnWhen she slept, her life was keptnA conscience stolen by a thiefnnHer fragile face and shyish gracenLeaves me bereftnAs much as I adore her skin to her corenShe is in love with deathnn|:nShe wants to be, be the tragedynThe king of dreams wants to keepnShe touch her hand to see if she cannPinch herself back to sleepn:|nnShe wears her depression, it’s like her fashionnShe’s a planet in her own galaxynMy beautiful friend has reached the endnOf what she can take of realitynShe wants to go back to the heart-attacknwhich gave her a decade in comanHer only desire is to expirenInto the dark worlds’ aromann:|