Imperfect Fantasy with a Dose of Suicide

In our own sweet fairy tale,
We were as happy as could be. 
He was all that I desired. 
The loving couple was we. 
In our perfect fantasy. 

We trusted each with all our soul. 
The passion was clear to see. 
But I was hiding the darkest secret. 
Of depression killing me. 
In our perfect fantasy.  

He tried and tried to keep me alive.
But a savior was not he. 
With a spin of fate and a rusty knife. 
I set my sad self free.  
In our perfect fantasy. 

When he heard the news he was filled with grief. 
He fell to his bloody knees. 
Laying in my pool of blood. 
He cried the terrified pleas. 
In our perfect fantasy. 

I was cleaned and laid in coffin. 
And later set free to sea. 
And my sweet love now stood alone. 
As he cried and cried for me. 
In our imperfect fantasy.