Death and COmpan

Cigarettes and Eyeliner
Scattered in the ashbin
Cryin' as the last spark
dies

The lighters around them
are drained of fluid
and the last matches
burned before
hell froze over

As the moonlight shines
faintly into the window
the wind becomes tipsy
as the piano strums
its melancholy chords

The wind blows softly
letting the window's skirt
flow oh so smoothly
against the stillness
of the sooted rose

And as Satan's womanly figure
Appears in the rivers
One may ask one's self

What is it to be living?