||[Dec. 13th, 2004|10:04 pm]
bitch trog anarchistic freak
The eyes will wander there
In circles made of stone
Casting your shattered light down
Painting doom on your perfect face
In the wonderful light
You wandered like a fluttering angel
Just to see what couldn't exist.
It brought you to your knees
Your fluid touch was laid to dry
Burn your curiosity onto me
And I blow out the flames
I like to see the light
But to touch its glow
The cold weapons would avenge me.
I am not listening to the night
I am not sleeping awake
I wait for the moonlit chasm to open
And to swallow you whole
Whatver you say
The markings make no sense
Whatever dangerous weapons are these
They have cut the world dry and clean.