Die in your Arms

I can be taken to be a fanatic in delusional stories! engulfed into the world's worries better yet, swallow the little words I say, when my life is claimed to a single bullet from the choked, but easily fired old gun, clenched in between your hands as I bleed to death in a cold-bath of reeking fresh blood on the floor, where there is nothing more to tell but silence since I can't yell as dead men, tell no tales! for my life isn't a Cinderella fairy-tale...