hoping for a stranger to pick up and
sail far...far away with-- This is unheard
of from Hippocratic church goers.
She is missing the kernel of growth.
Therefore, she scopes for a lover.
The one whom murdered her delicious dreams.
Tears unseen like lukewarm air...
He defaulted her distinct prayer.
Heaven is closed. Tell it to the choir!
Her evolution exceeds misery like raining fire.
Pain is felt. Pain is dealt. Wealth is stealth.
Health is poor. Poor is help.
She walks like the still trees outside; rages at
the sun within the corner of her eyes.
Lost is beautiful. No one can find her.
No one is looking__ Her hope is burned
before it's begun. It is unlearned...
From birth she was cursed; an odd ball sacrifice.
Still, a fighter who would make a fist.
It has attacked her over and over.
Now she is a bytch at your door.
Mother love me. Father can't hear me. He never did
Beelzebub travels faster with life insurance.
Where is her child? He was her kernel of hope;
her precious light.
He was strangled by the riverside.
He was baptized in filthy revival.
Come blinding guide. She wishes not to see--
what this world has come to be.
Her heart is sluggish to outsiders.
Those who don't fit into her scheme.
She was precious as copper , a few hours ago.
Things change like colors of the rainbow.
Things get old and die. She's not alive to
adventurous carnival rides. She merely exist
as the wandering child.