Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
She pulls her stockings up past her knees—
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
Here she wields a heavy mace
In fantasies of revenge.
Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
She is the victim in an impossible race,
Never as beautiful and she desires;
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
They came and left without a trace,
Oh! Those murderers so cruel!
Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
Kissing at the makeup running down her face.
She submits to the pain.
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
She keeps a single flower in a cracked old vase,
The one memory that never seems to fade.
Long, dark locks frame a pale face:
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 3:02 PM UTC
Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
She pulls her stockings up past her knees—
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
Here she wields a heavy mace
In fantasies of revenge.
Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
She is the victim in an impossible race,
Never as beautiful and she desires;
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
They came and left without a trace,
Oh! Those murderers so cruel!
Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
Kissing at the makeup running down her face.
She submits to the pain.
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
She keeps a single flower in a cracked old vase,
The one memory that never seems to fade.
Long, dark locks frame a pale face:
An undying commitment to blood and lace.
Please give credit if you wish to use any of my poems.
Thank you.