• The Black Rose
    A little black rose
    In a velvet lined-
    Black casket.
    In the hand of someone,
    Someone I know?
    Its petals open and it gives-
    Love, beauty, and passion
    To us all,
    To the world.

    It is opened completely,
    And with its final breath,
    It says goodbye to the world,
    As the last petal falls.
    And as the last petal falls,
    The casket closes.
    Fog emerges from the darkness.
    The chill of the night cuts through skin.
    There is a soft whistle in the wind.
    Fog is circling around the base of the casket.

    The sky is a dark gray,
    With a beam of light from the moon,
    Only on the casket.
    I smell rain so musky-
    It's suffocating.
    I hear a howl in the night.
    The fog is ever closer,
    Eerie nothingness stares back at me.

    I walk up to the casket,
    And touch the smooth surface.
    I run my fingers on the embossed letters,
    The letters that spell the name;
    The name for which I can not x-plain.
    I stumble backwards and trip,
    As I finally realize.
    That the person in the casket,
    In that black casket of death.
    Is someone I know dear.

    Terror holds me down,
    For I can't believe what has happened.
    And the reason is this my friend,
    I am no longer of this world and now I finally see,
    That the person in the casket is me.
    So with that I say to you my friend,

    REMEMBER ME