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wounds
piercing from outside in through flesh
so beautiful, miraculous, and grotesque
worn by one of innocent pride
bled until dry, but still very alive
in a bed made of dogwood
and posts made of nails
sacrificing all life
but no one can tell
every wound tells thousands of stories
save face now, there will be no time in the morning
the horizon is the timer
then truth will become the liar
the sky welcomes light
while everyone else loses sight
laid to rest, obstructed the door shut
hated to death, by ones who lived before us
now it's hard to speak with words that are broken
now born into sin, all over and over again
this poem made me think of
this poem made me think of this poem:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_ijQvowO7I
Much Love
Ashley
You.dont.know.it
But we have a love hate relationship.
I love what your mind can conjure up.
I hate that I didn't think of it first.
T.T
In awe.
=^.^=
"We are, Each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." -Luciano De Crescenzo