The road is long and carefully overgrown.
Controlled decay and broken cobblestones,
lead the way to damnation with flowers
lining the road with promises sworn.
Trees, gnarled with time and contempt
point the way, and you follow
blindly into the face of your past
with a vapid smile on your pretty face.
Question the existance of the song
you hear whistled by death
a pretty tune, like a glass of wine
they use to drink to your health.
A bow drawn swiftly across
a violin with only 1 string
One hand clapping an endless rhythym
as you dance to the beat and sing.
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Submission Name: Pretty Tune Whistled by Death
