Truth immerses with the dying of the day

December 1, 2010
By Anonymous

I lay in a bed of truth
Around my head a crown of cigarettes,
My virginity is plastered on the walls
Sins slicing my hands,
I wear sanity on my feet
And insanity around my neck,
The dark moon bleeds through my window
Its dark presence clots all of my fears,
Its funny how I heal through the night
From the blindness of the day,
Truth immerses with the dying of the day
And my illusion rises with the sun,
I lay in a bed of delusion
Around my head a crown of gold,
My innocence is plastered to my soul
Sins cleaned of my hands,
I wear silence on my feet
And time around my neck,
The bright moon shines through my window
Its bright rays blind my eyes,
Its funny how I cover them during the day
To save their sight for the truth of the night

The author's comments:
This is a personal experience of mine, one night of realization.

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