Decay endures a spiteful anger
Whilst beauty rages wild
Violent tornados of madness
Burn within this tortured mind
Where pen and paper meet
A quarrel under my fingertips
Writes the world is so unkind.
The sorrows of the plagues
Keep knocking on my heart
Its wearing doors, hinges rusting
I am torn apart by doves spreading desease
They nestled under my wing
They flew with betrayal lapping at their feet
Over the pallid trees
That used to shelter me from harm
That i now tremble underneath
Pen and paper and heartbreak
That never let me rest
I write of decay and madness
With spiteful, violent tongue
Its what a lover does best.
Am i wrong.
