Love
Okay, this is probably the only thing I have writen like this. But thought it was neat. Please
be kind in the reviews. PLEASE!
~ ~ ~
Spike sits alone on night. Listening to his old radio. The static is driving him nuts.
He sits there.
Waiting.
For what he doesn't yet know.
For days he wrote letters to Buffy.
They all sat on his table.
He couldn't do it.
Love.
FUCK THAT.
But can't.
Love isn't a thing.
Spike didn't ask for it.
That bitch.
She can't know.
But she does.
Help.
And he cries.
Help.
To late.
Can't help a love.
Love.
Not real.
But is it?
A screaming pain.
A scilent killer.
A scam.
But still he cries.
And he screams.
Living not a life.
But a hell.
Hell is real.
Spike is in it.
Buffy is not.
Angels live in heaven.
And he writes.
"Promise" he says
Give.
Buffy must know.
But she doesn't want.
She hates.
She feels nothing.
A soul.
Spike needs.
Can't.
And he stands.
Pain and anger.
Hope.
He must give it.
He walks out.
"Bloody Hell".
He pleads.
"Let her see" he prays.
Light is not far.
Neither is death.
Both.
Spike get to her door.
The sun peaks.
He knocks.
The door is opened...
Buffy looks out the door, only to see a pile of ashes next to a note. She is confused at
first. Then she read the note. Crying. She screams. Not knowing what to feel.
He loves her
But know he's dead
Thinking thoughts
up in her head
Her tears bleed
They bleed red
She could never see
Now he is dead
THE END!!!!!!
NOTE: Love isn't something you ask for. It's like a cold. You just get it, and it makes you do
wierd things...
~Fransesca
Okay, this is probably the only thing I have writen like this. But thought it was neat. Please
be kind in the reviews. PLEASE!
~ ~ ~
Spike sits alone on night. Listening to his old radio. The static is driving him nuts.
He sits there.
Waiting.
For what he doesn't yet know.
For days he wrote letters to Buffy.
They all sat on his table.
He couldn't do it.
Love.
FUCK THAT.
But can't.
Love isn't a thing.
Spike didn't ask for it.
That bitch.
She can't know.
But she does.
Help.
And he cries.
Help.
To late.
Can't help a love.
Love.
Not real.
But is it?
A screaming pain.
A scilent killer.
A scam.
But still he cries.
And he screams.
Living not a life.
But a hell.
Hell is real.
Spike is in it.
Buffy is not.
Angels live in heaven.
And he writes.
"Promise" he says
Give.
Buffy must know.
But she doesn't want.
She hates.
She feels nothing.
A soul.
Spike needs.
Can't.
And he stands.
Pain and anger.
Hope.
He must give it.
He walks out.
"Bloody Hell".
He pleads.
"Let her see" he prays.
Light is not far.
Neither is death.
Both.
Spike get to her door.
The sun peaks.
He knocks.
The door is opened...
Buffy looks out the door, only to see a pile of ashes next to a note. She is confused at
first. Then she read the note. Crying. She screams. Not knowing what to feel.
He loves her
But know he's dead
Thinking thoughts
up in her head
Her tears bleed
They bleed red
She could never see
Now he is dead
THE END!!!!!!
NOTE: Love isn't something you ask for. It's like a cold. You just get it, and it makes you do
wierd things...
~Fransesca