The dying bride
A hint of excitement at the moment of her very last breath Mirrored as white roses floating in her glancing death Clad in clovers, wore a smile on her lips as the remains of air and blood exit through her rancid fingertips The throat, it tightens. The grip makes her interest grow. Restless in rest now, with a thousand marks to show. Still taking envy in the life that she never chose And the last picture presented is the one of a bleeding rose She was born in love with murder Love was what brought her further Love was what murdered her heart And while the screams she presented were littered with grief Her final gasp was a pleasure ridden farewell Were there no white roses mirrored in her final stare? She will never be seen as a bride She will never ride in white She will never get rid of her hate The dying bride finally knows her fate Exhale life, inhale… Inhale life, inhale… Exhale life, exhale… Exhale! It’s her dying wish to never have to share a kiss with those cold lips And with that pledge she blooms into colorless love While pale angels sing their cries Beside her, a pool of her emptied heart Beneath her wounds, a crown of claws Inside her, a flushed out destiny A desire for suffering and ache Exhale life, inhale… Inhale life, inhale… Exhale life, exhale… Exhale! She will never be seen as a bride The dying whore will now rest in blight
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026