Gold

gold medals.

petals

petals like blood.

macabre

the macabre follows us home, to our sleep.

away, away

and Hope with her innocence wings flew away, away.

raven-haired beauty

her raven hair was torn away, splattered red.

revenge

revenge tastes like blood.

alive

in the end, aren’t we all copies of the same person, just molded in different manners?

End

they dream of the End.

Maginot Line

when perfection fails in its purpose.

beautiful ghosts

in the blood swirling along the drain,a skull gapes a pretty smile,blank eyes brimming with the ghosts of the past