Friday, April 13, 2007'♥
-the puppeteer-
In solace,in this naught of darkness-
The cadavers of her make belief existance breathes.
She bleeds and screams-
In iron cages and barricades;
Wrought with tears of a broken matriach.
Her wings of dreams-
Clipped and broken;
They are chained in permanence,
By castles and riches of a forsaken patriach.
In eternal conflagration, in the lies and facades-
The bereaved beckons.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
because the spirit may be frail,
because the body may be exhausted,
i will ask of you to be with me, lord....