To whom my heart may contain.
I am at long last feeling sane.
I will not have to give a try.
It is time to say good bye.
The soul of me will be soon freed.
A burning desire of its indeed.
Life is not the meaning of freedom.
The meaning of which I aimed to fathom.
The bosom of life blooms into darkness.
Adorned with roses of great dolefulness.
No more lies to myself will be told.
The pleasure of heat means I am cold.
To abridge lives you may need to rave.
The outline of mine is 'From Love To Grave'
