Jewels and Hand-Grenades

April 3, 2009
By Janie Spencer BRONZE, Winston-Salem, North Carolina
Janie Spencer BRONZE, Winston-Salem, North Carolina
4 articles 2 photos 0 comments

I want you to break, break, break down to the light hidden far down inside me.

You speak of days were there will be no wrongs but there is nothing left to show for it. Still the same corruption, still the same lies laced with drugs and sex.

Cry for the souls of the broken and scarred for they are the ones that will rule.

Love is just a horrifying spider that lures unsuspecting victims into it’s web of beautiful dismay. Love waits and festers there looking at all the little morsels while they eventually go mad from wondering when the slow torture is going to end. How are they disposed of? Why they seal their own fate while burning with the flames of desire rapidly engulfing them from the inside out! You like your lovers hot, we love ours toasted!

Jewels and hand-grenades, my darling. Jewels and hand-grenades.

In the days of Kings and Queens I was a leper. Nobody to go to. Nobody to care for. Nobody to love.
And alas through the years the cycle never fails and history just repeats itself.

The knife is pulled plunging deeper and deeper into my heart. No don’t take it out! Maybe if it just stays there the wound will close around it and I’ll always have a little piece of him with me.

A little girl lies cozy in her bed, naïve to the world and all its chaos. She’s just helplessly waiting for her moment to be a crashing star.

Beautiful dreamer,
Queen of my song.
Murdered are the good,
Beautiful are the wrong

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