My throat is an open grave and my minds an endless hallway.
My lips are stitched together, my tongues too dead to say,
That I love you with all the pieces of my broken, tattered heart.
When does life truly begin where does death end and where does it start.
Feeling so cold and I doubt I'll ever feel warm again.
I doubt my heart and mind will ever be able to transcend.
Because your dead now, gone now, you were taken from me.
Now my heart is shattered and my tired eyes refuse to see,
Why something so beautiful, something so pure,
Something that would have had a happy ending I'm sure,
Would be taken from me, please tell me your still mine.
Please cry out to me from the grave my dear dead valentine.
© Brett Harper
