Death By Dawn

The street's strung amuck
Blackness shrouds the sidewalk
The slow hearse makes its way through
Deep in its belly lies the fallen angel
With her pale blue eyes and decaying flesh
She's dressed in lace, her favorite
Her body is a beauty when they cover her scars
If only the teary-eyed watchmen had seen what that sorrowful coroner had witnessed

Blood spatters painted the once cerulean walls,
The bathwater no longer clear,
But a cloudy crimson mess
Discovered she was with her little pink book
To explain the tales of what lead to this
So ugly she always was
True beauty she has achieved today