Dawn and her friends
She loads the gunand spill makeup on her
face to cover the holes
where anyone could see
her soul and prepare for
the feast on the night of the
Teenage freak show...
Sincere packets of moonlight
Sprinkle down her shade.
In the midnights secret garden
Of bluish darkness.
She walks well-hidden in a layer of
Toxic because she couldn't
Look nice without.
Do you walk lonesome tonight?
Where werewolves cries...
A fist keeps the pushed shut.
A gun keeps the secrets hidden.
As nobody in the night would
Hear her scream.
the last orifice of the sun got
shut, when the moon got raped.
On the middle of the day in a
Room now destroyed a thousand
Times in her mind.
They hunt in packs in the silent
Moon banded midnight as the
Bell don't shout it's toll to
Warn but to wake the ones
Sleeping in the park.
She came to the church too soon
To learn they rung for her funeral.
An humble white face greeted her
As she entered the room of
Thousands knives. She fell and
Died a fast death, when she run
Back haunted by fear, she had
hammered the nail thru her
cloak and run to her death,
as they found the
Skeleton in her closet, as her
Skull rolled down that lonesome
Path now somebody got it as
A trophy in his castle
Like a little friend to morbidity.
Another Victim a thousand cries.
Another perpetrator somebody's demise.
For a crime he earned a thousand
Times, by now, five years eternity.
He walks the red mile in a country
With no name, just because he learnt
To spoke.
Another one, hit the prison wall.
Now he's just meat to the dogs they
Say, justice doesn't exist within these
Walls. As they go rounds on the
Misfortunate for the day and begun
To look for tomorrows victim.
He call home to his family he got
Something important to ask them.
But nobody answers. He looks down
Into the bag on his newly bought
Shotgun and call it his only friend.
I'm the angel of death...
As the night slowly roll further
It get's closer to dawn again.
Dawn awakes, lying on a grassy
Lane, with her friends, right in
Front of a graveyard, where the
Janitor walks home from the
Graveyard shift. He's been fixing
A leak, on a tap which didn't
Leak, but he doesn't want to
Make his intentions clear.
What dirty business he been
doing there.
They wake up and look each
Other in the eyes, "how the hell
Did we end up here?" they said.
But nobody answered. The
Question passed on in generations
Until it faded. Now the sunset
Is claiming the ground from the
Moon and children play as the
Air sends it's words of welcome
that the summer is born and that
The closest road to paradise is
Not to the left, or to the right
Not up and certainly not down.
It's right in front of us...
Poetry by asshole
Read 705 times
Written on 2007-05-29 at 00:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
