Pushing daisies,
Six feet under,
Melting hearts,
And souls asunder.
Never finding what I sought,
I feel my skin about to rot.
Cold and callous, love dismissed,
Your frosty words cause rigor mortis.
What does it matter if I have died?
It will not change how I behave.
Mark my words, my deadly dear,
I’ll love you from within the grave.
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