Again,
I stand here with no one
A grave so suddle once life is done
But with the dead there stands a figure
Perfect as an unfinished picture
Some beauty cloaked in white
An empty shell of something bright
Her eyes glazed over
One cold October
Her figure like a stone
Sentenced years with no one
Clouds of slate dim her vision
Dance in her eyes
She's sent her mission
On a single chilled breeze
Of death and decay
She's lost her way
Traveling with the damned
this fallen angel has no heart
In her hand she carries a pentagram
The smell of mildew grows fragrant in the air
Eyes of a demon's cold measured stare
It tests her faith, she has no hope
Stole all she gave
A lustful joke
Raped of definition in this barren land
She sits alone without a home
3:35 p.m. - 2004-11-10
Recent entries:
Hello, Old Friend - 2017-02-13
Heads or Tails - 2011-01-21
Kindness - 2010-12-03
They've taken a toll, these latter days - 2010-11-16
Written in the Winter of 2009 - 2010-09-19
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