I felt a funeral, in my brain
I was the mourning and the mourned
What was the cause of death
I wondered out loud
The sting of betrayal,
The voice rang aloud

Ah, the classic betrayal
Whose pain, a gift of slow death
I wonder why
There exists no ballads, no songs,
Which glorifies
The backstabbing by a friend

I look at her face,
Her body pale, and cold like ice
There she lays in her casket,
Her face srunched up in emotionless smile

She didn't look dead, but she wasn't alive
Existed in a state of liminal,
A specter, with pulse,
And a heart, beyond repairable measures.

Her death, i think, was slow like cancer
With no signs visible for months,
She must've trusted herself too much,
To misunderstand the ache here
And the headache there
For being managable.

I went near her,
Running my hand through her curls
I whispered the last piece of advice
Which might help her
in the life after here

"Remeber little darling,
no one is built like you,
The heart that beats in you is unique,
not everyone is like you.

So don't trust people,
For they are like wolves in a sheeps clothing
They'd sound sweet
like the lure of siren
But Remeber their hearts
outvenom even the worms of nile.

No words are truth,
no appologies are meant,
They stab you in back with a knife,
Even when for them,
you might be giving up your life."

___________________________________________

My last words to you, a mockery,
i know the dedicated wouldn't understand,
For my brain in elbow,
is bigger than the thing in their head.