She walked into the church
Cradling the dead
In her arms.
It was eerily quiet
As she sang a lullaby,
Her porcelain skin
Was smeared with ashes.
Her voice sounded like a battlecry
Standing in a red gown
Facing the crowd.
As she lifted her veil
You could see,
That she was a goddess
Who was sober
And still intoxicating
Her beauty was lethal
Her sharp tongue
Could pierce your soul
Her lips were ******
And her eyes were numb
She held a scythe in one hand
And in the other
She carried a newborn
She was death in disguise
Resembling a flower
With hollow eyes.
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
She walked into the church
Cradling the dead
In her arms.
It was eerily quiet
As she sang a lullaby,
Her porcelain skin
Was smeared with ashes.
Her voice sounded like a battlecry
Standing in a red gown
Facing the crowd.
As she lifted her veil
You could see,
That she was a goddess
Who was sober
And still intoxicating
Her beauty was lethal
Her sharp tongue
Could pierce your soul
Her lips were ******
And her eyes were numb
She held a scythe in one hand
And in the other
She carried a newborn
She was death in disguise
Resembling a flower
With hollow eyes.
