melancholy my love

I'm in love with melancholy
enraged by the thought of
I am drowning, suffocating 
and dying for dark love
no light gives me rise
and no blessing excites
only death and desire
both perplexes, ignites

deep within the night's

embrace...
my love is a disgrace

give me scissor and knife
and the feel of the blade
give me portion and portion
of this hell that's been made
I need  crimson and blackness
and hurt dripping down
to walk in this bleakness
 in this hate I could drown

I have found...
turning round and round

A love of depression
so demonic and sad
a scolding from momma
a beating from dad
a shovel I grip tight
and desire runs right through me
My love for the melancholy
suicidal and free
In this I have found
a love of it all
in love with the thought of
the thrill of the fall

even sun has a blackness
 black spot on blue skies
even your love is tactless
when you close those dear eyes
even your love is hurting
and death would be kind
for in your love I'm drowning
in the depths of my mind

I am in love with melancholy
wrapped in pure mourning madness
I walk the earth wailing
and enduring this sadness

damned

…and I let myself fall.

sometimes the sea wells up inside and i want to be free.
sometimes the pain is  hard to hide ; i feel you inside of me.
                             
when i cant cry i taste the tears that came a day before
when i cant speak i feel the words churn inside this whore
give me peace, i beg of you, oh , give me peace in hell
i crave your touch but in the end i hate how far i fell

from grace

sometimes i lie upon the floor and beg to hold you near
my head's alight with words of love but i still cradle fear
so, listen, i have much to say to you before i go
my soul is more important than any  love i know
Your eyes they tell the truth in pain of something i have missed
with all those sleepless nights I craved the everlasting kiss

of love

and i still pray,and  i still want salvation if its real
but can i fight this demon of that thing in which i feel?
can i break your chains in which i bound upon myself
if i leave will i just find the dark in someone else?
these questions slip and drop just like the spittle from my lips
these evil things they drown in wine so red that my love sips
delighing me
again
and i am damned…

pulled an tugged until there is no more left to feel
I try to say I'm done but this thing is so real
denied of that soft whisper of my confession
back into the obscure life procession

and it is my profession

to do as well as I should do at all
so why should I do more than fall

I am damned