Chameleons skin has dried away,
Tears dry, bruises fade,
God's whore,
My common name,
Blood dries, soiled and stained,
Memories dying in nameless graves,
God's whore, this day,
Beaten, roughed up, having strayed,
Toughened eyes and barely shame,
Bares no fight from eternal rape,
Lay back and pray for haste,
Deadened senses deafen pain,
Insomnia, and chaos reigns,
What caused me to be this way,
Where solitude feels better in a cage,
Trapped away?
The beatings attention, either way,
Good or bad,
They bring his name,
Twisted master of my keep,
I only beg your beatings feel,
Life is chore and none are real,
That cannot love this empty shell,
With no love back,
No words to tell,
So honestly of romance true,
Just games of words to play to,
In blackened hours searching night,
In solitude and empty mind,
Pointless is even the thought of dying,
God's whore, my reign,
Looking for that stab of pain,
I've given many but yet to take,
As I pillaged stole and raped,
Souls to feed upon if just for gain,
And in the end,
Not even a stone on my grave. |
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