his lips still painted
the face preserved forever in the shine of chemicals
he lays
never to move again
dressed in the clothes he wore to battle
to face the wraith of school
eyebrows finely traced
lips still plump and red
air no longer moves through this vessel
skin reborn in make up
so no one will see the shame
has he took his life that day
laying on the bed
eyes shaded has almonds
eye lashes still curled to the end
blush powdered across his cheek
a samurai shalt show his weakness
when there is a battle when many have lost for a cost beyond value to others
he took his life rather then to let them take it himself
his hands still holding the only weapon fit
the stench has his twenty two grams have left
his body still preserved
