Six was the fall
climb and reach for it
motivated by your all
you let me go, into the pit
into the void
how could I have let this happen, the periodical sin
to let you avoid
a lot more than my skin

six minus all
it's pretty hard to recall
when I was a slave to your orders
manifesting disorders
using me
for your sick desires
you weren't the key
but you flaunted it, spread around like wildfire

here you made me crawl
as I followed your every demand
shattered me in the rainfall
scattered the shards with your very own hand
if I knew it would turn out like this,
on that very special day near the end of autumn
I would've declined that kiss
and it'd be not him.

And if we're no longer slaves
Why do we lend an ear to
the demons' voices?

And if  we've been saved,
then why do we still believe
we're chained?

And if we're children of God,
why do we care what the devil's prickle
Can hurt

And if we believe,
why don't we thrive?
why don't we conquer?

For we're slaves no more,
For we're powerless no more
For we're worthless no more.

flowers grow in the holes
of her ever more romantic dreamin's
she fills in the picture with pastel hero's
their colors fade then fire as her passions run
vivid at a moment's of his heartfelt embrace
faded as his wicked smile fails to ******
she is drawn to the artistic brief time in hand
fascinated by the workings of the mysterious mind
how create rainbows from the dusty nuance expressed
create love from an abundance of words delicately devoted
cede to the child hand within us
the joy and discovery
making gentle rain from the hard snow
of making yesterdays into an epiphany of beauty lost
how to be the source and author of true loves song

while she is taming the mare
he trims the overgrowth
while she entertains with tea and crumpets
he is chopping the wood
while she dances within loves light
he chips away at the stone hearth
these are no lovers
just strangers embraced

her inner field of flowers
a swath of rose red bordered by summer greens
ever an insurrection against winters hand
saving every sprout and budding leaf
single-handedly stemmed the tide
as Autumn steals away with all of the summers life
he is her part-time hero
obsessed with his grand gesture
dismissive of the intangible cold touch
she paints him in pastel
but his is a life of watercolor running in the rain
a minister of hammers
the only spark within is that
of the violence of the iron wrought anvil
no heartstring to gather up
to weave a life from

she will mourn his leaving
caught up in the divinity
always found in yesterday's sorrows
bound in the confines of her heart
he will always be the part-time hero
he will never leave
in the loss of yesterday's sorrows

Dance to the cheering of men
Show yourself and dance, Dear Gwen.
They pry on you but that's alright,
You'll serve three for tonight
Take it light

One at a time, do not rush
With two hands and a mouth, pure cold cash
You get your pay, they get their pleasure
With a body as if porcelain like yours
Women have no pressure

Your price is high so let no customer down
Satisfy and obey, smile never frown
Dance gwen 'till the sun arises
Until then, you're trapped in your own darkness
Poor gwen, used to satisfy moree than less

Take a quick sip, this liqour has its magic
Makes you brave, night less tragic
It's the moon again, the spotlight is on
The room is dim but the eyes are dawned

Dance Gwen, dance 'till dawn
Dance to the cheering of men
The less you wear, the more you gain
Dance Gwen, Dance until you're worn
Worn out, keep your thorns.

I am my masters slave
Surrounded by fields and shallow caves
I stand here looking upon the mighty corn field
My mouth is stuffed with grass thread sealed

I am my masters slave
When gust winds blow my hand starts to wave
Standing strong I show am brave
I love this job that he gave

I am my masters slave
Rain, storm, heat leaves me withered
But with my husky style am not bothered
I stand here without any complain

I am my masters slave
Day goes by with scaring crows
Night passes staring at the field rows
With my masters hat on, I surely give a **** pose

I am my masters slave
My head strapped on tight with rope
My hands and legs dangle on the pole
I don't have feelings neither am a living soul

I am my masters slave
Serving with all my will and might
An unpaid job but with a title given as scar knight
I am happy to live in my masters sight

I am my masters slave
I will always serve my masters orders
In all good and grieving times with my other hordes
All knitted and standing some at the borders

My master is my friend
I shall serve him faithfully till the end
Until my master finally rests in his grave
Till then, I am my masters slave


©sim