Dictating My Epitaph

Blackened hearts pumping cyanide but the music is oh so lovely.
The bleeding starts rich and full eyes melting me so contently.
So far apart we tear at each other with our jagged words perfectly.
We are falling stars, hurdling towards oblivion indirectly.
The disposition of this situation is growing dark.
In beautiful agony, I stress what must be done.
It's too late the pin's been pulled, only one will get out alive.
Who's going to sacrifice this time?
We already know the answer.
We already know the answer.
This place will tear me apart.