We make poison look so pretty... Ignorance truly is abhorrent, Just a dead end car ride, As the flowers wilt From putrid vapors; And we are told To breathe... Rabid butterflies in my heart, Losing their scales, Wings crumbling to dust; Decaying... As tepid fingers Walk across ancient pages, Forever wandering; Alone in the gloom.
Listen to the singing moon from beyond the clouds. Her silver face, she wears like a shroud. She hums, softly like a lullaby, to a sleeping baby, holding us to her breast like a mother-lady. Then, as the sun rises it's her turn to sleep. Guiding us to our waking as our secrets, keep.
