Her name, like her face, can be found in every book you open and every song you hear.
Her voice is an angelic poison on your ear.
Her hair is golden thread, embroidering your bed, weaving a crown upon your head.
Curious…
You are welcome to such a snake.
While we lay here in your wake.
You let her destroy us!
You let her destroy you!
Now you’ll never be the way you used too.
Her smile imitates the crescent moon,
Contradictory to her warm flesh.
Your lips, your hands, your bodies mesh.
She killed you way too soon.
 NativeBlueXV · Wed Feb 16, 2011 @ 03:40am · 0 Comments |
