Savior
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Your eyes have surrounded,My aching morning,As beauty swims a fallen mile,A death that I drew close,You will be the woman I will raise,From a worn stem of flesh. You have a face that shows a yearning,For a merciful connection,A series of tears have washed my tired face,I am a man who knows truest torment,As I
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I fell with an idleness,Made to attract the many peasants,Made to attract my torture,The despondence and the belittlement. The upbringing of my guise,The romance of my mass.The church with its cross,Does all to be damned. It’s all the remains of a shape,One hung up, like a portrait on the wall,One of eyes that are listless
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Her ethereal,Becomes commonplace,When as the witness,To the sight of depravity. The sight of God,Too bright,For wicked stains,Of blight,To make a grand performance,For the mark of love. She has the form of an infant,But the exquisiteness of the priestess.She has the desires of Eve,And the embellishments of Adam. She has the warmth from the sun,Though, the
Modern Romanticism 