The smell of apples and cinnamon fills the air,
as my speech scents of chamomile tea,
and with skies of bright baby blue,
"I love you",
Watch the world below revolve continuously,
and shift behind the eyes and ears of human reality,
the hands of time will go on forever, without me,
please, I must say again,
"I love you".
What a beautiful gift to give me,
of equal sadness and precious joy,
in my future demise, my soul will depart,
and as I lay in my grave under baby blue skies,
the slight scent of apples and cinnamon will linger,
above your upper lip where I once kissed,
and whispered
"I love you".
About the Creator
Lilian Wicca
In a world of lovely things we often find ourselves surrounded by endings. If I am to end someday, I'd like to be buried with the words of my thoughts
I'm a 19 year old poet, I love to write about love/death.
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