That screech to tell of deeds pleasant, perverse.
The stars shine bright on bitter truths concealed
By two young men in search of honest love.
So we smoked cigarettes to forget stress,
Preferred the numb to constant throbbing pain.
Still life goes on between the bloodstained sheets
The virgin’s broken heart screams silently.
And knowledge starved on ignorance’s milk
As Helicon was quiet through the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment