a tombstone face viewing from afar
the angels decorated in such vivid detail
and their supplemental souls
a dance fantastic
the burning in their eyes
my isolated lips, they murmur
"how could they ever be wounded
when they have no heart?"
it's hard to be a saint
when you're bleeding all over the tile
among the masses, invisible
and the Joker, his eyes view
a singular image
his future was once my past
how can i feel trapped
inside a heart so shattered?
deserted, lost on the asphalt
i watch the cars as they pass
my sky is falling, but i sing along
the angels sing too, but they make me choose
reconstruction?
or dismissal?
so i remain watching
all that heaven does allow
but from outside the gates
|
|
