Pitiful angel, fallen in the dark.

I feel your wings flutter onto my cheeks so rough,
your horns of a demon, it hurts so much.
You swore you’d stay with me, not ever deserting me.
Please to god, stay with me until we both fade.

We are fiction in the real world of pain, we see everything real,
we can’t feel a single thing.
I don’t want to screech out to those who are blind and deaf,
because nobody seems to sense the inner pain, that worsens.

The artificial comfort, the falls into our palms,
we pray and suffer because we don’t know how to live without god.
I know that in my heart, I feel warmth and grace, but it is shattered,
glass placed in my name.
Worrisome children, run the streets to death.

We are fiction in the real world of pain, we see everything real,
we can’t feel a single thing.
I don’t want to screech out to those who are blind and deaf,
because nobody seems to sense the inner pain, that worsens every day.
That worsens every day.

I can’t bare to look in your eyes, they are colder than the sky,
I can’t bare to look at your lips, for all the lies I’ve missed.