Patch Work Frankenstein

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  • Confusion

    Patch Work Frankenstein

    Patch work Frankenstein,
    the truth is the rhyme
    made from broken hearts
    where the darkness then starts
    when others are born with wings
    and the pain is what the freedom brings
    I have no heart in my chest, and the 
    bottom of the bottle's blessed
    as the wind comes from the west 
    passes me by, and I am denied when the Angels 
    sing! Forget the love for the hour, 
    the bottle's power beside you
    as the spirit dies too!
    Bury this heart in the ground, 
    as if better not found 
    cursed as the gods allowed,
    Patch Work Frankenstein, 
    scarred by the life 
    of no purpose and its all worthless!!!
    Godless and how I bought this to watch 
    Heaven burn it, so sick of the fight, 
    bury me this night, I didn't deserve this!
    Patch Work Frankenstein
    in the rhyme I watch the world
    hurt, alone on my throne, bleed you 
    as i show you you're already dead? 
    Choke on the lies you fed 
    and die victims by design.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Vampire’s Poems (100)

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