Such a sweet nector flowing from the bowels of the earth. Spewing forth the spring of sweet wine. Not jugged by the hand of man.Yet drank in abundant jubalation.Neat, Refined. Yet unable to take a stand.
How oh world will we count for the truth? Will they be only words written and forgotten in time? Somehow lost in translation. Now finding ourselves in a bind. Torn in a state of mutalation. Truth even harder to find.
Pale and bleeding heart, blue in parting word and deed. Blood shot eyes only seeing red. Contemplating a plan to succeed. Finding you're just another walking dead. With a heart ready to bleed.
Angel soft and gentle I now shake in fear. For nothing is as it seems.I laugh as demons wipe my tears.Knowing only that what I thought was reality was only a dream. As peace excapes my febble existance. I watch the regal resistance. As now the slate is wiped clean.
Blood covered faces stare in amazement. Only seeing through rose red blurr. Once thought to be heaven sent. We wait for a miracle to occure.Yet where's the miracle after the money's spent? Still no more than a blurr.
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-07-07 01:33:06
Last Login: 05.24.12
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