Every time I fell in love
    my heart became more fragile.
    The snow fell beautifully into
    love's yawning massive grave
    where all true loves go to die.
    Tears of my soul drip upon pages
    and I scratch my stories for you.
    Read and understand my journey.

If the lights are all out
and I listen to a song
I carry the cross to the
finish line where you
are nailed to it and die
for 3 days and escape
magician or sorcerer
drunk apostles write
a holy bible set it in
motion forever after.

A magic box where all of your
ugliness and cruelty are forgiven
when you recite the sin list to
your priest and perform penance.
Guilt  lives in shadows of the
heart always whispering madness.