Lipstick

Ash blends with the breeze,
As it blows through the trees.
And burning clouds
Cry black rain.

Her lifeless body,
Rests in a perfect line,
Upon her red velvet bed.
Her face so serene.

Her pale face shine in the darkness,
Like the moon in the dead sky.
She is so white, so pure.
Only her lipstick, like blood upon her lips.

She is so beautiful!
Death has made her beautiful,
As death makes everyone.
Beautiful.

The silver sequins of her dress,
Catch the light of the moon.
Reflecting it,
Like stars in the winter night.

Her black dress,
Flared around her feet,
Lying flat on the bed.
Hands clasped together on her chest.

She is praying.
Praying for god,
To take her far away
From this evil place.

Her death was fast.
The poison worked quickly,
As belladonna does.
All she had to do was sleep.

Now deep in sleep,
She shall forever lay,
In her mourning dress,
And lipstick