Will you leave me here, dying?
Will you leave me here, dying?
I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying,
and no one saw the moon that bled in my mouth
or the blood that rose into the silence.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories