deepundergroundpoetry.com
Artificial Rebellion.
Forget the world,
Forget your life.
Think of only fallen angels,
Know that you have seen their flight.
Sickened were you,
By some deathly plague,
Murdered were you,
Diseased to your grave.
Maybe if the auburn-headed angel,
Had thought to care,
Or even notice when fire caught,
Your thick brown hair.
Youre a heart attack,
Youre a saint,
Cry to your mother,
Over spray-paint.
Dye your hair black,
Change up your style,
Never go back.
In the meanwhile..
Angels are cursing,
For theyve broken wings,
Angels are moaning,
Not used to fractured feelings.
What do you do,
In all this trouble,
But sneak away,
Off to the rubble.
To the rubble of a past life,
Off to the secret,
Underground wife.
Black is her hair,
Green are her eyes,
Out of her mouth fall only lies.
Sweet as acid,
Silver like sweat,
This woman will be,
Your only regret.
She lay you in a coffin,
She whispers with sweet breath,
If only you werent sure,
That you werent dead yet.
You love the devil,
And she was your death,
You love her with tear drops,
She sang to you with firey breath..
And from the altars shrieked the angels,
To the despair of your remains,
In your rescue they ripped out her eyes,
They flew your body out into the rain..
They stitched up your lacerations,
Cleaning off your wounds.
They sewed you with concentration.
One lay you in your room.
She gave you a rosary,
But it was too small,
It didnt fit your throat,
It couldnt at all.
To the spawn of the devil,
Your own precious daughter,
You give her the necklace,
So mother cannot haunt her.
Forget your life.
Think of only fallen angels,
Know that you have seen their flight.
Sickened were you,
By some deathly plague,
Murdered were you,
Diseased to your grave.
Maybe if the auburn-headed angel,
Had thought to care,
Or even notice when fire caught,
Your thick brown hair.
Youre a heart attack,
Youre a saint,
Cry to your mother,
Over spray-paint.
Dye your hair black,
Change up your style,
Never go back.
In the meanwhile..
Angels are cursing,
For theyve broken wings,
Angels are moaning,
Not used to fractured feelings.
What do you do,
In all this trouble,
But sneak away,
Off to the rubble.
To the rubble of a past life,
Off to the secret,
Underground wife.
Black is her hair,
Green are her eyes,
Out of her mouth fall only lies.
Sweet as acid,
Silver like sweat,
This woman will be,
Your only regret.
She lay you in a coffin,
She whispers with sweet breath,
If only you werent sure,
That you werent dead yet.
You love the devil,
And she was your death,
You love her with tear drops,
She sang to you with firey breath..
And from the altars shrieked the angels,
To the despair of your remains,
In your rescue they ripped out her eyes,
They flew your body out into the rain..
They stitched up your lacerations,
Cleaning off your wounds.
They sewed you with concentration.
One lay you in your room.
She gave you a rosary,
But it was too small,
It didnt fit your throat,
It couldnt at all.
To the spawn of the devil,
Your own precious daughter,
You give her the necklace,
So mother cannot haunt her.
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