RebelleFleurX

In one of the deader darkness's that fill my shadowed room, a scream, yet not a dream. Blood drips of the tattered seems, of a flimsy, fallen blind. Lets take it back in time. To look at your lover with murderous intensions. As hard stones click against the harder stones in my eyes, the stones being your lies. As the cold flint sparks to fireflys. Yet monkey do, what monkey see and monkey saw a stinging bee, armed. My very own glinting sting feel treason, to the old oak tree. That lines our bed. My murder born, from deadly rage, reveled to me. Your final page. You see every story has a end and its time to close the book on you my

Standing on two sides of an open door, Crushed cruelly as the curtains fall. Breathing in time with bitter rhymes, Know cowardly crying, once stood tall. What's touched and tasted, sourly, wasted, Upon a stone cold floor. And though let's face it, you're going to waste it, I still hold open my white door. See once upon a lullaby, I might of, I might have cared. But you see once upon a fairy tale, I thought that life was fair. How do I know what's right and wrong, When wrong is always right. I deadly giant stands defiant, And I've given up the fight. So I'm left standing on two sides of an open door, Left begging, screaming wa

Red as the lips you kissed when i was away, As orange as the fires that lead you astray Yellow is my sickness, my mental health Green is the cash, your greed, your wealth As blue and as cold as the frost in my soul Pink is the love that took its toll But violets the one that made me cry, That feeling, I wanted to die..

Remember how the ugly duckling turned into a radiant swan, While the other little ducklings stayed safe and protected by the pond. The swan stayed brave for good or worse, Protected by the queen. My fair ugly duckling, you're beauty must be seen. Don't worry what them whispers say, cause whispers tend to get lost, Lost by your shining light reflecting of the frost.

Corset, crystal, lost in the many thrills, Of a brides maids dress. Clutching on to the bouquet of dying roses Colours fading with shattered dreams. Dreams of a prince with silver wear but No man will stop and take the time To look beyond the brown, split hair. Many a weddings have come and gone, But none have been her own. Young and lonely, lost for love, All love is lost but lovers found Mean more to her then petty ground. The church walls crack and all around, She's dying not making a single sound, She smiles and joins the passing crowds.