A Flow Of Death

A full sheet of collapsing entity,
falls onto my sorrow heart
as I dream of your voice,
of every lasting moment we shared.

Our love is like a sweet song,
being played over and over.
Yet with each note strung,
or each vocals sang,
it's nothing like heard before.

We are a couple
living for years on this wretched earth,
living through love,
with the same two hearts,
yet a new beginning every morning.

Your presence gives me a chill,
as when a poem does when each word,
each phrase reaches your heart.

You are as a poem to me
that I memorize word for word,
that I reread until the morning arrives.

Then you shall still remain my poem,
but with different words,
more fantastic than the words before.

Yet death lingers into our future,
will we stay together as souls.
Or mindlessly fall,
fall into oblivion with the others.

The souls that lost their meaning
when love escaped their lips.
Shall we fight it and live as ghosts,
feeling the cold emptiness,
never touching, speaking to others,
people around you living?

Will love be enough when death seeps in?
The question also flows,
almost like your poem and our song does.
But this flow is different,
it flows constantly like a river;
of blood through our veins.