Her skin, so pale...shrouded in black
I drew down the veil, I wanted her back
I am at one with what never lived
I'll draw down the veil, and offer up what I have to give...
Shall you try and poison my words
At a summers funeral, I woke to the light
Shall you lay my bed with thorns
And clutch at me like you have done to life...?
Shall I be the chief mourner, in your procession