| (no subject) |
[Oct. 3rd, 2005|01:37 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Blood Brothers | ] |
The Inspiration of Misfit Faces
Josh VanderMolen
If I felt this pain before you even shot me dead,
Then why can’t I look at you without my blood rising to my mouth?
It’s that damned Parasite’s fault, that ungrateful little wound, sucking me dry,
Of all
my hope,
my love,
my joy…
my life.
You think I wanted it to be like this?
You think cauterizing the wound will make the bleeding stop?
I know for a fact that ungrateful wounds bleed until my breaths cease,
And my once lively body goes limp with the spectacular failure of dying stars.
This Parasite thrives on the killing of me from the inside, ripping my insides apart,
And laughing at all of my mistakes, all of my mishaps.
Make in me a way to kill the Parasite…
And these misfit faces shaded beauty, look at me with foreboding eyes,
Red with the fury of ten thousand burning suns.
And say to me, “You are apart of the Revolution. Come and partake of the cure.”
So I partake, and w/ a slight retention, I feel a dark cloth removed from my body,
My insides begin to unknot themselves, and the sensation of
my hope,
my love,
my joy,
my life…is coming back.
Oh Revolutionist, you’re beauty is blazing like blemished sunrises,
I hide my face from the fiery Revelation; I touch the ground with granted humbleness,
I become one w/ the Revolutionist
Make in me a way to kill the Parasite,
I am here with the Revolutionist,
Come Parasite, try and kill me,
If I felt this pain before you even shot me dead,
I was deceived. |
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