Google India Search

Monday, May 7, 2007

The Song That's All Wrong

Crimson roses on the lawn, your
rubber touch for they long
booger stained naked fingers, cause
morbid fear that shrivel their tender petals
death untimely you curse them with, through
disco memories of last nights bliss, when
roach he did touching you there
white your cheeks turned with baffled stare
red his face grew, his innocence revealed
black your heart felt, not accepting his need
blue his eye turned, you punched him there
heights of wrath were stripped naked and bare
cuts and bruises he carried back
blood on his shirt advertised there unaware
imagine if he hadn’t made his move then
allies you’d have been without a care, but
matches are not made in heaven alone
fire resides above ground, not just below
reject you did, his advances were wrong
silver were his unspoken promises and
gold his unsung song
armor of just, you did wear, when
sleep together he suggested there
eternal your hatred grew towards such thought
sunrise will never gaze upon his plot
dawn on him did reality then, that the night’s
moon would jeer at him ever since then
used he felt for all the years he spent
panic took over and apologies he lent
music grew louder fading his words
light grew dimmer as the party began to disburse
dark the night outside did laugh
chaos broke out in your tender heart
takeout this pain to the skies you yelled
unwritten words marked your spout
law you felt should strongly be held
blink you must not when delivering a spell
guns went off resounding your wrath
roses you tended grew weary at last
avenged you left him wounded and hurt
sometimes it’s just to do as is must
alone now you walked back cursing the fact
die he must you wished for his act
scars that you gave will last him forever
insomniacs watched while you did enact
abandoned by love you behaved then thus
obsession you thought of his warm caress
fall in your sight he did by his act, and
bite like serpent he was ministered at last
anarchy of feelings he had displayed, the
arsonist in you he had awakened
crazy it is now, when you think of it, while
music from your transistor breaks into a yell

thus tending your crimson roses, this morn
you wonder if what you did was wrong

No comments: