Blood on the floor, coveted by the silvered glass.
Acquainted with the reflection are we?
How does it feel to be forsaken?
Doesn't feel good to be the one abused...
Cast to the side watching the masses pass by.
Drowning in luscious fear so stagnant and impure...
Don't you ever tell the secrets whispered in the dark.
The shadows know and that's enough.
Pretty little thing, pretty package of lies and veiled threats.
Say all the Hail Mary's you want...
There is no savior to grace the mind forsaken to the streets.
The thorns of reality hurt.
Piercing, sharp, sweet, lovely pain.
Eroticisim at it's best.
Standing on the precipice of madness,
Teetering on the edge of fault.
Follow destiny with blind faith.
What's the matter?
Didn't expect this?
No fear, die inside.
It's easy once forsaken.
A.J. Downey
01-18-2001
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