You touch my hand
And my arms grow weak
A feeling I've not know for so long
Then again, have I ever truly known it?
Your silence is my epitaph,
I die to hear it
My angel of death,
How can I not love such a villainess
You bequeath the knowledge
I am too ghastly to bid you
Do not run, my love
For when you shall know
(I know you shall know)
All I ask is stand beside me
As I will guide thee
My angel of death
My villainess
My love.
A contest entry
- Twilight-The Safest Time Of Day by SingMeToSleep.
850 points, ended March 3, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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