AngelRain's profile

In the wasteland of the skull  slinks a phantom mime, stone deaf to the sounds of time. Heart of the phoenix lifted in rapture through smoky topaz eyes the soul is captured. Sip the sweet serum nectar, the antidote to the lament of pain. Alabaster hued bones on the ground, burning in rotting mounds. This is the carnage of the skull, through mossy mounds eyeballs roll. Sea green and serpentine are shades of the sick mind, mutilate the morbid skull, inside, a killer you will find.

Here's to pictures from a painted memory. Tell me darling, who started this fantasy? Was it you or me? Your painted rainbows over dead trees, had me chasing false dreams. In this not so perfect world, I refuse to be a pretty, painted girl. Life is too big for any canvas cover up your mistakes but they still exist as a misguided brush stroke from an artist that missed. So here's to pictures from a painted memory, let's sit and play a game of charades, tell me darling in a whisper can you guess...

Welcome to the magic show, be seated and prepare for what we have in store for you you'll see but cannot share. We'll pull an ounce of happiness from an empty glass, and give you joyous feelings that nothing can surpass. (We'll hide the vast reality from your very eyes, and teach you that a smile can hold so many lies.) Welcome to the magic show, where everything is real or simply an illusion that you see but cannot feel. Magic minds have magic thoughts, that disappear at will. Along with you...

How fares the willow tree, like a man alone that wept too much. In somber shades of unloved, and forever marked with scars of hate. Someday the happiness you've drained will leave your roots again unstained. As undeserving of the nourish that once made your worthless fat self flourish. You'll soak up the apathy and only that will set you free. You'll understand what you have done, I'll make you see you are no one. I'll find the world's tiniest violin, and break it to make you whole again. The...

Criminal, what have you done? Guilty I'm sure of something, I point the sentencing finger, you will never be acquitted. Your conscience does not falter, it carries your every shame. It will serve your every warrant, to be incarcerated by your thoughts. You're a criminal, I know you are guilty; I'm sure of something. We have a star witness, so what's your alibi? The witness is your conscience, your conscience never lies.