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Won't you rest your ruined head my weary child |
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This would twas not for thee |
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I send you now the promised land |
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Not one breath did you heave stilly born |
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Unto this earth sleeping so soundly in my arms |
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A slug-like trail of ochre fluids where we've danced |
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The sun is setting now |
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I hold a modest hand in vain |
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My lung emit a sigh |
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What fiend would take these tiny eyes and show them to the dark |
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Gods just a lie |
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Never born into this den of sin |
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That which erodes the most tender of things |
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After the eve have fallen |
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The lights are sinking low |
|
Shadows would hide that life |
|
In him could never grow |
|
A hollow gaze peers from the cradle black |
|
Imagining his shining eyes just sockets staring back |
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Witness the baptism skeletal the world would shun |
|
Reject the purest form of love |
|
A mother to her son |
|
I proceed to nurse him |
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I could almost smile |
|
I entertain the notion |
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That he did live this while |
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But he's dead to this world |
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Carved out just like my heart |
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Soaked up and washed so lovingly |
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Cherished son unconditionally |
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In our secret world alone |
|
Situation delecate crudely frowned upon |
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In our sacred love undone |
|
Never born into this den of sin |
|
That which erodes the most tender of things |
|
After the eve has fallen |
|
The lights are sinking low |
|
Shadows would hide that life |
|
In him could never grow |
|
A hollow gaze peers from the cradle black |
|
Imagining his shining eyes just sockets staring back |
|
Witness the baptism skeletal the world would shun |
|
Reject the purest form of love |
|
A mother to her putrid rotting son |
