Love until the catacombs whisper your name.
Your skin turns to ash and memories fade.
Love through the pain of the fire and flame,
as you are stabbed again by its dull blade.
For only then will you see the world's worth.
Then and only then will beauty give birth.

Battered, bruised, abused, and betrayed, you wait.
You ponder, and your patience may wear thin,
but the sun shall rise, and hand you your fate.
Soon my friend, you shall purge your deepest sin.
So, sit by the candlelight, rest your eyes.
I promise you son, true love never dies.

Imagine my surprise when my eyes spied
you staring from over the garden wall.
Blinking so gently, your doll at your side,
your freckles glowing, I counted them all.
A minute held forever in my mind.
The first and last moment had of this kind.

You ran away, a shadow of a ghost.
I sat and pondered. Were you in my head?
I glanced back and forth, from pillar to post,
but you turned to ash, the moment was dead.
So I turned and slumped, tired and annoyed.
Years later your eyes still pierce into my void.

I am the man behind a marble mask.
You are a muse, you are my final task.

Move your feet and read the room.
Your time's elapsed, face your doom.
Leap into the tomb
Little *****, your life's collapsed.

Please, let's just go back to being kids
before whatever it was that this thing is.

The moments where you shivered in the night
And I held you softly within my arms.

Turn back the clocks, and re-enter the light.
You and I: friends, lovers, strangers, soulmates.

The title is meaningless, we are built to last.
So take my hand, and leap into the past.

In a fantasy
it all remains the same.

My mask grows unsteady.
I've tasted the poison.
I prevail in the aura.
Blend my persona, I am ready.
Save the skin, feed me the mind.
Lie to me, this I do surmise.
Thank you, hold my hand.
I delude of Dorian Grey.
Delusions of grand fear.
Lonely, stark cold, lovely.
A jam jar built from marble.
A steed on a corpse.
Maps, dreams, peace filled, juxtaposed.
Lie to me darling, take me to the moon.

Whisper my name in the brambling bush.
How do you know what this means?
Oh mother, oh father, there is no need to rush.
Take my hand, walk with me, can't we just wipe this slate clean?

Push her ahead through the forest anew,
dancing so idly by.
fill her head with visions rotten, depressed, and blue.
Hold her hair, douse her skin, and let her soul solemnly sigh.