I've never seen blood,
When he sold me an ocean.
A wonderland of lust,
swaying me like a sirens song.
Losing myself out,
in the rolling sea of
In a world full of black and white.
Where not a soul could be bothered within their mundane ways.
There was a single girl, shining in full blasted, techno-color.
In this world of dark hues of haunting shades.
Vacant entity's, refuse to look up from scurrying feet.
Day in and out, they mooed like cattle.
But not the vibrant Crayola girl.
For all she had to do was look up,
and she could see her rainbow arching in the clouds.
While everyone else, passed her by.
I had to edit this. Sorry. I posted it really early in the morning. *face-palm*
The ache is deep inside. There, just where your knife resides. Didn't I beg for your mercy? My throat screamed raw from wailing for my surrender. A barbaric answer, I did receive. Your concealed dagger buried within my left side. I stumbled and fell to the ground and watched you walk away, with a whoosh of your dark cloak. My vision blurred within deaths grasp. Left to bleed on the cold granite. Pale-white stone smeared amber. Oh, God. That awful color.
I couldn't help it my love, even with your fervent betrayal lain open and exposed. My waning eyes traced each strand of your ebony hair as the manic winds whipped them around your unhinged-grin.
"What a vision you are, my god." I whispered my ****** words staining my teeth.
You glanced back then, with the greenest of green eyes. A swirling ball of chaos with a deadly smile. The gold of your curving helmet reflecting; what could have been; what should have been between us. You looked back at me, right before you vanished in your clouds of illusions and smoke.
"I worshiped you..." I spoke to the dissipating air where you stood.
My god. My king. My lover. My killer.
"--and I trusted you." An empty echo of words ringing truth within my ears.
My time is fading in this realm. I am merely a red smudge on the ground. I question myself as I drown, lost in my sea of blood.
'How did I ever come to trust a deity of mischief and lies?'
(the gate's been left hitched open, with fraying string ajar)*
"Although, I've left you clear directions to the travellers' garden path -
yet, you've chosen a different route - to all you're searching for."
I wait, at a journeys end of heady scents, tending ancient roses trees at it's breadth;
Sipping warming cups of rosemary blues, infused with sweet thymes' underneath.
Perhaps, just an invitation to the garden was quite enough... to let fear decide your fate.
*Bared soles should move with deeper love... when pure destiny awaits.
In the language of flowers...
Rose: Love, desire
Thyme: Courage, strength
Dock: used to calm sting nettle rash :)
— The End —