A saccharine
*****
A broken home.
A cellophane
*****
A scribble-wrought tome.
Nothing left
A shadow of
Me.
Nothing left but
Leaves fallen from their tree.
This blood that flows down
Is colored violet
This blinded eye,
A sightless white orb,
Glows in this darkness
And glows in my heart.
So corroded and rusted
The life barely flows
A forgotten relic,
A left-behind rose.
A cracked-glass
Man
All bloodied and torn.
A steampunk
****
Left behind in your
Revolution.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 4:10 PM UTC
A saccharine
*****
A broken home.
A cellophane
*****
A scribble-wrought tome.
Nothing left
A shadow of
Me.
Nothing left but
Leaves fallen from their tree.
This blood that flows down
Is colored violet
This blinded eye,
A sightless white orb,
Glows in this darkness
And glows in my heart.
So corroded and rusted
The life barely flows
A forgotten relic,
A left-behind rose.
A cracked-glass
Man
All bloodied and torn.
A steampunk
****
Left behind in your
Revolution.
