i take this gun out of mouth and point it right at you
|
licking warm blood - off of soft lips
|
caressing the cold - stiffened idea of love
|
inhaling her beauty - her encompassing scent
|
soft rain - drowns out the light
|
lightly pressing - lustful fingertips
|
upon her lips
|
ice cold lips - that seem to whisper back
|
sweetened songs of seduction - stop
|
shallow pools of paling blue reside in her eyes
|
slowly fading, being washed away by warm tears
|
so slow, so quiet
|
wash away the dried blood on her lips
|
wash away the memories of his cold embrace
|
|
-----------------
|
Eyes of an Angel
|
| The Seventh Gate (The 7th Gate) |
