Will the walls cave in under the ground
forever closing off the diamond mine,
and necklaces of gold will wait in vain
to wrap the neck of my bloodstained valentine?
Will the grapes remain sour too high to reach
will they never be brought down for my wine,
for when I sit at a table for two, lonely in company,
opposite my sweetest bloodstained valentine?
Will the lipstick lose its identity, its color,
and the rosy lips never feel so divine,
as the shade slowly, oh so slowly turns blue
too blue to kiss my bloodstained valentine?
Will the words “till death do us part” be our undoing
and the setting sun disentangle our fate entwined,
as it grows dark around the countenance of
my lovely, beautiful bloodstained valentine?