Monday, January 11, 2010

My Gift To You

You did not feel me in your room.
I stood over your bed and watched you bloom.

I hovered so closely I could feel your breath.
I saw how you shuttered; and I saw your death.
Stealing your petals is nothing for me.
The price for your life; to set your soul free.
Habitual haunting; my presence undue.
Your chance to come haunt me, Is my gift to you.

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