in a sad, deep red gown, death
walks with black-dressed life
holding a cold hand, mourning his being
death smiles at life bringing her near
a lay nicotine kiss and cries full
of sorrow, fill up death lungs
as life fades out darker
smoke in her eyes, death weeps aloud
she can’t be dead if life isn’t there
annihilated she stands
still holding the smoke of
the dark being goddess
death whitely fade, and ceases to be
she can't not be if what is just isn't
