Wednesday, April 30, 2008

I don't care for the rose
Now worse than before
It has the perfumed scent of death
The smell I've smelled before

A funeral parlors paradise
To cover up the smell
Of embalming fluids added vice
Of a ever ending realm

Of the waxed pallor parody
That's become of love and death
Each held within that single smell
Of someones rotting breath