A Wicked Love Story
Shadows press a horror sure,
golden memories have become a blur.
Hauntings of my past haunt the very soul within me,
clouded with terrors all about can't you see.
When nights shadow falls,
evils siren calls.
Amidst true terror subdued,
True human human gore is viewed
The sun rises an orb of celestial fire.
Into each nature an angel climbs higher.
His heart of truth is pure,
The slings and arrows it does endure.
Gold and silver glowing bright,
its firey coils remove our sight.
The visage of his heart is falling,
He cannot ev'n hear his god calling.
Mine horror remains in passions grace,
While the wicked harlot has taken her place.
Darkness veils the truth inside of its cover.
The haggard old woman becomes my lover.
Under the cloak of night he steals her breath,
Squeezing her throat she succumbs to death.
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