Misslead
Angels do not cry blood for me
when I decide its time to fall,
Devils do not spit fire at me
when I dont bekon to their call,
My soul does not grow tired of me
as I tug at the strings of my life,
my mind still never grows mad in me
as i clutch once again at the knife.
Saints never grow weary with me
when I dont lay myself down at their feet,
Demons are never aghast with me
for not backing away in retreat,
My breath is never at war with me
for sliding him once more inside,
Yet he is anguised and clutched with rage
for the times I have shattered and cried.
His fists scream with distate at me
as my skin bruises once more like a fruit,
His eyes stare daggers that pierce my heart
as the pain gathers up in recruit,
The palms butn with an anger so fierce
scorching the uncooked skin of my face,
and his fingers bare teeth as he ties the knots
of the rope I had wished he's misplace.
I open my mouth and the words they rush out
in a tumbling weed of hope,
Praying he'll stop and consider his state
as his patience begins to slope,
Anger re-kindles, eternal damnation
I have sired this curse to his heart,
"Please hand me the blade, you have made your point
It is but my time to depart!"
His fingers grope at the hilt of the knife
as his life falls with him to the bed,
With a final look and a glint in his eye
he slits his throat instead,
With a silent grin, I slip down from the chair
and laugh, pounding my fists on the wall,
What did you expect? Mislead you have been,
for I am but no angel at all!
Angels do not cry blood for me
when I decide its time to fall,
Devils do not spit fire at me
when I dont bekon to their call,
My soul does not grow tired of me
as I tug at the strings of my life,
my mind still never grows mad in me
as i clutch once again at the knife.
Saints never grow weary with me
when I dont lay myself down at their feet,
Demons are never aghast with me
for not backing away in retreat,
My breath is never at war with me
for sliding him once more inside,
Yet he is anguised and clutched with rage
for the times I have shattered and cried.
His fists scream with distate at me
as my skin bruises once more like a fruit,
His eyes stare daggers that pierce my heart
as the pain gathers up in recruit,
The palms butn with an anger so fierce
scorching the uncooked skin of my face,
and his fingers bare teeth as he ties the knots
of the rope I had wished he's misplace.
I open my mouth and the words they rush out
in a tumbling weed of hope,
Praying he'll stop and consider his state
as his patience begins to slope,
Anger re-kindles, eternal damnation
I have sired this curse to his heart,
"Please hand me the blade, you have made your point
It is but my time to depart!"
His fingers grope at the hilt of the knife
as his life falls with him to the bed,
With a final look and a glint in his eye
he slits his throat instead,
With a silent grin, I slip down from the chair
and laugh, pounding my fists on the wall,
What did you expect? Mislead you have been,
for I am but no angel at all!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
This thing you've written, it reminds me of something I wrote back in high school, it was song lyrics, but I have lost them by now. They were about a love and jealousy that inspired a couple to murder/suicide. It was unclear whether they were both willing, as one of them took the initiative. Yet I cannot remember the exact words...come to think of it, I am not the only one that had a copy...my best friend at the time should have them somewhere...I do remember the beginning though
Your skin like satin lines the coffin for my soul.
Even when I am dead I will not let you go...
Also, about Finland, I have lived here for 8 years now, and I'm fuzzy on whether I like the place...somehow there are places which feel more like home. Then again, I'll be building a castle...