Lock the doors,
leave on the light.
Kiss the children,
'Nighty night'

Lie in the sheets,
Don't fall asleep.
Cometh the Devil,
thou soul to reap.

Your sable heart
has long been dead
for the Devil dwells
inside your head.

In hushed rooms and empty corridors
I counted my heartbeats.
One, two, three.

Some days I was more alive than others,
stepping in tune with the pulsating muscle
in my chest.
Slow and uneasy.
One. Two.

And one day,
After I had paced the corridor seven times,
hushed the children
and silenced the banshee,
I found it.
Quiet.

I heard the last thump of my heart.
One.

In the monotonous ringing of silence
and in the empty hall,
there was tranquility.

She spun a scarf to hide her shamed head
from a silken thread of equivocations
that led her lovers into walls.
She ate from a spoon of clay and earth,
saturated by her tongue
mud in the depths of her bleeding throat
and the towns people said
'May her mendacity lead her into hell's bastille,
may her sins bury her before the breath leaves her lungs.'
and she was silent.
While her judgment day had arrived
and she marched on quietly towards the grave
of the rogue,
I felt her eyes catch mine in the crowd
and I tasted the humanity,
I smelled the anguish.
Sentenced to death by the thirsty fingers
of an un-dead society,
feeding on the remainders of true, unyielding life.
She walked on towards the land of slumber,
a conscious antithesis
of justice.

Gray skies
Gray eyes
And a chilly smile
in the empty
afternoon.
What will we do?
Where do we go from here?
I only follow you,
gray eyes,
I only wish for my
gray eyed
love
to come near.

Fell for you, died on impact.

Whatever lies beyond this life
shall suffice for me.
Forgive my simple mortal mind
and may my soul be free.