A Funeral Walkaway Parade

Nothing seems to be of anything to me anymore.

Something in me lost itself in the Evermore-.

I tied the knot and hung it loose beneath the willow branches of the creaking noose.

And as my eyes began to fade, a lurking silhouette broke my dire gaze.

Somehow, I saw your blossom in the shadowy plains.

So lucent and grand were you, I dare not look away.

Night-shaded tangled locks, moonlit skin, and purple orbs; I fell for the Queen of Evermore-.

Trust… trust… trust… trust me when I cling to all of that in you which is anything but good.

Just touch your lips to mine and I shall do the rest, my love.

Don’t be afraid, I didn’t mean to scare you.

I promise it won’t hurt when I begin to swallow you.

Close your eyes, and I’ll guide your fate, as I carry you so shall we grow root, bark, and knot into the flowers of the Evermore-.

Soundness insecurities and faultless imperfections of clay-turned bone grow deep within your soul.

I’ll creep, crawl, climb, and claw until I break my heart atop your orchard wall.

Not a broken heart but a vow of spellbound love.

So, shatter thine heart and barter me your piece for mine; then shall we both be completed by one another’s lonesomeness.

A fallacy of awe-inspiring lopsidedness.

A bowed pendulum quivering from catastrophic fondness to nefarious passion.

I am too connected to you to walk away.

I am too attached to you to fade away.

I’m taking you home with me, all dressed in black - to attend our funeral walkaway parade.