Nothing lies so well
As the face without the desire to tell
What fell
From eyes, that shed tears upon my feet.
Lace your thorns about my form
Upon the vines where they grow.
Roses hold no meaning
For the blood that is gleaming.
Let me die, knowing
I will leaving, glowing
Radiance upon the features that always sung
Arias to the distant moon,
While feeling scorn from the sun.
Blood is the wine
Of my old life, crossed into the new void.
My place in your arms
Is to see where Hell exists in Heaven.
Like this:
Like Loading...