The moon melts and drips
dropping its beams
onto your head.

The stars begin to cry
on your shoulder
wishing to find a way
out of your eyes.

Seeming to have taken a wrong turn
and gotten lost in the depths
of your most intricate thoughts
in the core of your psyche

The everlasting drips of blood
from your subconscious
Fall and mix
with the dying moon's tears

It's a new kind of feeling
when your heart prys away
at your soul
hoping it explodes
Into the depths
of a mindless peace.

It drifts

Killing the essance
of the bloodshot sky
High off the pain
handed down from the glow
enlightening the dying miracle
that once loved you

slowly awaiting
the deadly venom kiss
to come
and take you away
from the tears
of the radiant stars
enlightening your manic state

flow down and away black tears
into the silent melancholy
of what we know
as the death
of a miracle

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