My Melody Goddess

You're angry at the world
for singing songs out of tune,
so you steal my lies
and make them all come true.

You jump to conclusions,
proclaims your divinity pompously
as you place the silver scissors
in my hand.

To cut of the strings
that attaches you to the world,
the strands of hair
that makes you our equal.

You shiver as your world crumbles
under your gentle hands,
your breath rocks the sleeping hills.

The music grows louder in your presence,
the random notes you hit on the piano
is provoking, numbing and pure;
it's like my love for you.

But when will I see
that you lip-sync our song?

Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 642 times
Written on 2005-11-25 at 23:20

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