Profound and still bound
Chained to the pain
and lost for a cost from the prasing of hands
The line in the sand
The adulteress women found grace
found a saving face
Just in case
The line in the sand spoke whispers
The man without sin spoke volumes
We find the ultimate ZEN!!!!
Our sweet song is Sung!!!
All the pain becomes the Trophy!!!
Everything come to Fruition!!!
Theres virgin silence…………
Crafty Red handed, Angels of the depth of the heart
A man’s soul mate, A life sucker towards the best part
A trophy for the strong and a shameful loss for the weak
A humans existence to hide the meek
The black starless travel for the bleak
A mindless Physical illusion for us to seek
A place to only strive in limbo towards Death and Afterlife
A palace for us to enjoy all the sirens seductive might
Licking curry, making everything Blurry
Your in such a hurry
Your cuteness went for a scurry
Across the hall and into Hells Jury
Sat on the bench in a knot of worry
For life and youth will flee in a furry
But Don’t Worry
Ill find a place with no worry
and traffic will stop in a hurry
Blurred into a skyline with a silver lining
In a glass of red wine
Sipping on lipstick stains and choking on pick up lines form past lovers
With pictures on the coffee tables
Framed, Incased in copper, silver, and gold.
Incense curls around this scene, Were framed in a smoke screen
No Hell fire or Brimstone
No Holy Water, No Holy Water