October 15, 2007
This fairytale is real
Therefore it holds no happy endings
No sunsets or rose adorned hands
Just cigarettes and those who bleed on demand
I give the command
To transfer my heart from it's place in her eyes
To a better view of my face when it dies
When this love subsides it will foam
Like broken tides
Like the misinterpretation of guides
Just a lonely room
With no light for a soul to bloom
Some call it a tomb
Some call it a disguise
I call it a portrait without a canvass
A miserable spirit who ignored the prophets, who denied the angels
Who subscribed his soul to the beautiful disappointment, a facade of false joy
His eyes falter as she walks through the door
He knows he's had enough, but all he wants is more
Just another score, just as the roar of 10,000 blind demons with their hands to the sky pierces his skin
He bleeds out the passion until his heart no longer has a sense of fashion
She was the beauty and he was the fool
Now they're both just a pair of ghosts
Trying to make the most of a heavenly host who turned out to be a one man army
One's dead, and the other wants to die
With a sigh she believes the lie
And goes off alone in search of a sunset

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