He preys on a lonely heart
he smiles and ushers
his teeth to her innocent blood
he is a man of his word
his word doesn't mean much
but he is a man of his word
He calls her his sparrow
she sees in him her world
then he dances the plot
he just borrowed
from Beezel the cold
And then he smiles
hiding his miles long
trail of feline burrow
behind those decaying
thoughts of smear
And then he dances
around her lifeless soul
he left behind
in endless rivers of ire
Promises of Tomorrow
are his ice breaking lines
menders of sorrows
are his next to kin felines
He paws his preys
talk about the soon
to be together in the moon
He talks about green pastures
and his weeping willows !
but all he leaves behind
is a weeping pillow
He brags about his love
and how he is thorough
but he never meant
any wine from any vine
just sucking the lust
of his deep craving desire
He throttles along
the mountains of Saguaro
but he is from the
far away Zibeline land
Gotten into the game
so prepared
doesn't have a flaw to fear
only his victim's soul to tear
He is a man of his word
his word doesn't mean a thing
but he is a man of his word
He claims to be in need
for his dream
for her soul to farrow
but his sterile soul
can only give birth to sears
He is a man of his word
his word doesn't mean a thing
but he is a man of his word
By aurumium
© 2006 aurumium (All rights reserved)
