*The truth is the sun
burning through layers of faces
my graciousness
and alienation from god's ways
your bleed heart
strained within my web,
another prey,
sniffing illusive poison
from my painted daisy
true,
am just a flower
beauty lasts not,
but fades,
to bring a winter's cold
an addictive intoxication,
the aromatic jades,
where white, pink,
and purple petals,
colour the sky
into a grey,
the girl beneath,
A thousand years,
of tears and heartache
when her lover,
walked away
If love is wrong,
she hugged onto its wheels,
To hell's gates anyway
What has, or to be,
is beautiful
just a flower
that we love till it withers
into petals of sadness,
or memories of a worthwhile*
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 6:44 AM UTC
*The truth is the sun
burning through layers of faces
my graciousness
and alienation from god's ways
your bleed heart
strained within my web,
another prey,
sniffing illusive poison
from my painted daisy
true,
am just a flower
beauty lasts not,
but fades,
to bring a winter's cold
an addictive intoxication,
the aromatic jades,
where white, pink,
and purple petals,
colour the sky
into a grey,
the girl beneath,
A thousand years,
of tears and heartache
when her lover,
walked away
If love is wrong,
she hugged onto its wheels,
To hell's gates anyway
What has, or to be,
is beautiful
just a flower
that we love till it withers
into petals of sadness,
or memories of a worthwhile*
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