Death's Hold

To pretend joy and happiness,
I suppose it is a sin.
Like drawing blood from your flesh,
With a demonic pin.

Death is a beckoning sweet,
That is always calling.
And once you welcome it,
It leaves you eternally falling.

Darkness, my sweetest, my only friend,
Left me in the darkness, no flame of life to tend.
I suppose that if I am to be reborn,
I’ll want to eventually meet with you again.

That empty, void feeling,
I receive from your chilled kiss.
When I am alive again,
It’s the one thing I will truly miss.

Forgive me for leaving you behind,
To join the mortal flesh.
But soon again, I shall die,
And I beg of you to devour my flesh.