She stares.
Her eyes empty, and sad.
Her belly swollen
with child.

They look at her.
They see no gold band
that should adorn a
young woman's finger.

They click their toungs,
the soft 'tsk, tsk' floating
past her ears as if she
can't hear them.

She waits by the docks
for him, hoping he'll
come home to her.
'Who is she?' They wonder
'What is she waiting for?'

Not that they care,
its just more gossip to share.
But what they don't
notice, or even care to see,
at the end of the dock,
She waits, and she cries.

Because he's never coming home.

Ten foot tall titan talking in toungs
Hurry honey head home n' hide the young
It'll play your pineal gland like a puppet
A nap in the dirt forever? **** it
Long before your exposition you were already dead
Like a tumor it was nesting in your head
ever met a monster that would turn you into mulch?
That'll have you growing daisys in it's gulch?
Don't blame me or blame us, blame you.
Your delusions are no match for what is true.
One lies two lies three lies four
The monster mangles falshoods to the core
Leaves them at the door
Reality is not your drink to pour

A sweet piercing of the soul

A little weaker than before

Strangers flow from pen to paper

Melodies ring in the heads of assuagers

Eyes that see enlivened by nature

Toungs that bleed need no longer the drone of the sun side by side the path of danger

The desire crept clean

The required entailed by dancers.

Sing the delicate strings

Engraved forever