skull dust litters
heart blood glitters
icy finger tips
touch mirrored lips
exquisite corpse
arctic I's
dancing in the rain
(of weeping girl tears)
i'm not abel, so i guess i'm cain.
i will tie you down
by the creases of your frown
from the silence of your tongue
from which my thoughts shall be hung
found but bound
accompanied by one hell hound
my charity
will never be your clarity
but one day, as they say
come it (dis)may.
till then i shall for my soul to keep: Pray.
No comments:
Post a Comment