Inside your body’s fragile house
Behind the bars of ribs and skin
There is your heart that’s taken vows
To northern winds not to let in;
There are the briery steel flowers
They only sway into your breath;
There are just long and burdensome hours
Of so slowly coming death.
R: My dear suicide
Expecting Charon’s ferry,
Let me stay by your side
And find the sense’s berry.
And now the dawn’s like a vampire,
It’s lapping carpi’s bloody cuts
Because your puples’ darkling fire
Has not to venesection buts.
You’re fetched with death’s approaching sounds,
You’re awesome. And I cannot stop
The running of events. Oh, zounds! -
Cause I’ve already had to pop (off) …