Post by Lisa Vicious on May 16, 2006 7:53:51 GMT -5
A Girl Without Hands Pt I
Red haired girl gridlocked in purgatory
bleeding from her eyes as she licks her wounded webbed wings,
trantula lashes batting at the face of God
as she faces her darkest hour blinded by the celestial sun.
...and what if there is a place called Heaven?
They make it sound so inviting, no man nor woman should go without the riches of an unseen Jerusalem.
Then the voices of Hades scream out like thunder,
one after another...
so familiar.
A girl without hands can't go against the grain
but a girl with a heart knows her actions weren't in vain.
Sweet Mother Virgin Whore, bleeding is such a blessing
from the Curse of Magdalene forever more,
unlike the lies of a thousand bastards who await the almighty meeting.
She was dressed in all the sins and pleasures of the flesh,
so beautifully brutal even in death,
and when she took her last arrogant breath
she remembered the face of a man who raped her soul
..there she was left in the Chicago street with an invisible hole.
A girl without hands, an angel no more,
crimped hair and crimson tattooed on her lips,
someone everyone seems to adore,
like an angel, like an angel but whore.
So do we choose where we land when we fall from grace?
Is Heaven and Hell right now, in this place?
Distorted memories of a time when she held fate's hand,
now there is a nothing, nothing not even footprints in the sand....
Pt II
He was 3 days shy of his third decade alive
when he met carmel candy Eve,
now her hair once so firey and full,
is black with a purple haze,
not so fortunate for him he became obsessed with her gaze...
Like many a man who struggled before
this demon with a heart roamed the earth looking for something more,
like a vampire with a soul,
a scorn women full of forgiveness,
he became a frankenstein of a monster in the sky of lavender.
The beautiful people came and went and now God was found in a needle,
but this you couldn't pull the camel through,
her eyes rolled back in her head as she began ritual on his scabbed body,
pulling apart his wings first and making wishes as they fell...
Shattered little mirrors reflected on the dirty floor,
a bright red scream of blood shot announced he was no more,
and on the day he died his soul wondered if he'd killed himself,
and indeed he did by inviting Mary into his lust.
Red haired girl gridlocked in purgatory
bleeding from her eyes as she licks her wounded webbed wings,
trantula lashes batting at the face of God
as she faces her darkest hour blinded by the celestial sun.
...and what if there is a place called Heaven?
They make it sound so inviting, no man nor woman should go without the riches of an unseen Jerusalem.
Then the voices of Hades scream out like thunder,
one after another...
so familiar.
A girl without hands can't go against the grain
but a girl with a heart knows her actions weren't in vain.
Sweet Mother Virgin Whore, bleeding is such a blessing
from the Curse of Magdalene forever more,
unlike the lies of a thousand bastards who await the almighty meeting.
She was dressed in all the sins and pleasures of the flesh,
so beautifully brutal even in death,
and when she took her last arrogant breath
she remembered the face of a man who raped her soul
..there she was left in the Chicago street with an invisible hole.
A girl without hands, an angel no more,
crimped hair and crimson tattooed on her lips,
someone everyone seems to adore,
like an angel, like an angel but whore.
So do we choose where we land when we fall from grace?
Is Heaven and Hell right now, in this place?
Distorted memories of a time when she held fate's hand,
now there is a nothing, nothing not even footprints in the sand....
Pt II
He was 3 days shy of his third decade alive
when he met carmel candy Eve,
now her hair once so firey and full,
is black with a purple haze,
not so fortunate for him he became obsessed with her gaze...
Like many a man who struggled before
this demon with a heart roamed the earth looking for something more,
like a vampire with a soul,
a scorn women full of forgiveness,
he became a frankenstein of a monster in the sky of lavender.
The beautiful people came and went and now God was found in a needle,
but this you couldn't pull the camel through,
her eyes rolled back in her head as she began ritual on his scabbed body,
pulling apart his wings first and making wishes as they fell...
Shattered little mirrors reflected on the dirty floor,
a bright red scream of blood shot announced he was no more,
and on the day he died his soul wondered if he'd killed himself,
and indeed he did by inviting Mary into his lust.
thankies