This is the saddest story yet to be told. There is a complicated sort of hirl, living inthe unknown.
Bleeding to find her soul.
Where's a mask, here's a mask.
Who is she today?
Completly unrealistic.
Her mind is a divide.
Inplusivly lieing just to pass the time.
Loving the lost is lonely...
Its all she knows.
You have to have a heart to love, to let it show.
The only thing loving her is the nightmares she craves. In there arms she is wholesome, she is brave.
The devil kisses her into a suductive shame. Her body speaks in ways she screams to silence; Her sexuality takes over in defiance.
Change me, she begs.
Oh creater? Change me, she screams!
Discretly she craws to find something remotely holy.
She feels damnned deservingly.
Solitude is now the goal, beautiful toxins fill her soul.
Darknes brings the ghost.
Whispers are to close.
She fades;no one knows
Her laughter is her own