Stay with me, now,
sweet lady, mine,
it's you I long for,
your voice is divine.
I sit on my bed,
the room is cold.
I write these words,
which never gets old.
Each word, I write,
each breath, I take,
moving to the breach
of a life, I forsake.
I will think often,
of these words I compose.
The more I understand,
your life, as a Rose.
Quit looking for content,
trying to understand me.
I am who I am.
It's who I must be.
Will you still love me,
when the brains in my head
have turned to mush,
still alive but not dead?