The girl is all alone
with silent streams of tears.
running down her face
she doesnt seem to care
her eyes are glazed in rapt despair
she is despondent
to her faith.
So many a dark road
shes had to cross
with no one to hold her hand
more than once someone has spit
on the groung on which she stands.
She knows the muse
on lonsome roads
a guide for poor lost souls
she took the hand and stroked the hair
of the bringer of the woes.
-Chris Main
with silent streams of tears.
running down her face
she doesnt seem to care
her eyes are glazed in rapt despair
she is despondent
to her faith.
So many a dark road
shes had to cross
with no one to hold her hand
more than once someone has spit
on the groung on which she stands.
She knows the muse
on lonsome roads
a guide for poor lost souls
she took the hand and stroked the hair
of the bringer of the woes.
-Chris Main
posted by Aquamaniac at
5:04 PM
2 Comments:
The last part is very disturbing and very firmiliar. It sound like a dark and sickening resignation, like the hostage that falls in love with the torturer, idendifying with the cause of the illness as well as the will to submit and prepetuate it. The is not alone she is lost. "are you the shadow from the movements of a wound dissembodied?"
The last part is very disturbing and very firmiliar. It sound like a dark and sickening resignation, like the hostage that falls in love with the torturer, idendifying with the cause of the illness as well as the will to submit and prepetuate it. The girl is not alone she is lost. "are you the shadow from the movements of a wound dissembodied?"
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