Black as the night.
These wings take flight.
Upon the clock tower at twilight.
I see the sky painted with light's desire.
The city below is tranquil soon to be a livewire.
A smirk escapes my lips as my heart skips higher.
The blood that rises before the final breath.
Is sure to enpower me the will to meet my death.
These sorrowful "good byes" I whisper on the clock tower of St. Beth.
As I shread the charcoal wings of every dream and every hope.
My soul, mind and body are in turmoil and I cannot cope.
In tattered shammbles, the scence of death, crowds to callous to mope.
 TearsofBlood · Sat Sep 30, 2006 @ 03:40pm · 0 Comments |
