Pale bodies,
and cold figures,
come to seal my fate.
For the things I've done,
and the things I've seen,
I am never sorry.
Come close and hear,
my whispers of betrayal and heartache,
my final confessions and tears.
Come and hear my words,
but never touch me,
for my tainted body will only bring you darkness.
Keep your happiness and love,
breathe them in and breathe them out,
don't let the figures take you too.
Keep your loved ones close,
and make no enemies,
for these mistakes I've made.
Be loved,
my little one,
and maybe you will live.
You are strong,
like the prettiest young tree,
and I am nothing more than a crooked willow.
The willow's appearance may be beautiful and graceful,
but her soul is dry and cracked,
and she wants nothing more than to be a young tree,
with a quenched, bright soul again.