Ophelia's utterly perfect murderThere are a couple of little boys strolling down Ophelia's street tonight
her pretty eyes make them want to drink ten bottles of wine
but she,inside her four walls
scatters her husband's grave.
She put him six feet under, last night
there was a shot on his head that put an end to his life
"lovely Ophelia,bleeding rose of my thorns
I know you do not want to celebrate with the lovelorns"
There are a couple of lovers knocking Ophelia's door
she used to have a lot of visitors on her bed
then one day, her husband rushed into the house
and since then, he cannot have one tear to shed.
She had guns under her dresses and knives at her eyes
and blood was lying on her lips under those sleeping skies
her beauty was a lethal weapon that made him struggle and die
and now poor old man is destined in a grave to eternally lie.
There are a bunch of ladies singing lullabies
outside Ophelia's door no one laughs or cries
the silence speaks itself,the music,muted,departed
and all the poetry in the world mourned Ophelia's hatred.
Poetry by Eva
Read 500 times
Written on 2009-04-26 at 22:34
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