Breath, escapes her lungs
as she's led
through
the flower fields.
Buds burn, pollen rises,
and she sings
with thrill against her will.
Her views, sunset.
Golden rays have yet to cast bright
the sullen price to pay
for relying on Satan's supply
to lay, her shadows
away.
After flower hour,
the sweet polluted air turns ...
sour..
to pair with the power of the demonic layer.
A layer that grows 'neath seemingly glorious highs.
During sour hour,
her towers fall against the wicked.
Her cries penetrate the sky
as she meets her destined
demise.
It was time to realize:
the devil sings real lies.
There's no proof she must cling to his tragic magic.
Magic that gave her woes
a tug
before it dug.
The only receipt
for the ****** deceit: bruising..
from his crooked hugs she'd recieved.
It hits her that she's burying her identity.
Her life.
Her lungs.
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 12:39 AM UTC
Breath, escapes her lungs
as she's led
through
the flower fields.
Buds burn, pollen rises,
and she sings
with thrill against her will.
Her views, sunset.
Golden rays have yet to cast bright
the sullen price to pay
for relying on Satan's supply
to lay, her shadows
away.
After flower hour,
the sweet polluted air turns ...
sour..
to pair with the power of the demonic layer.
A layer that grows 'neath seemingly glorious highs.
During sour hour,
her towers fall against the wicked.
Her cries penetrate the sky
as she meets her destined
demise.
It was time to realize:
the devil sings real lies.
There's no proof she must cling to his tragic magic.
Magic that gave her woes
a tug
before it dug.
The only receipt
for the ****** deceit: bruising..
from his crooked hugs she'd recieved.
It hits her that she's burying her identity.
Her life.
Her lungs.
Flower Hour has been sitting in my notes for a while... I've never shared it with anyone. I think this is a good piece of writing, though, and I hope some of you think so as well!
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