c91misty

Once upon a time, As most love stories go, (No one understands this crime, And just goes with the flow). A maiden, dressed in the purest white, For Her true Prince, she awaits, Never to know of the fight, And the death decreed by fate. Under an ancient willow tree yonder, She awaits through the many a decade, Left to look and ponder If that his love for her had fade. As time grows short, death knocks at her door. In to her lover's ghostly arms, she is no more.

Walking in the park, going through the trees, And what did I see? Baby-beaters, rapers, molesters all free. And then I looked to the nearest tree, Gnarled and twisted, all dead except For that little leaf dangling from some twig. Some day Hells going rain its fiery brimstone Chaos, Down on the people who dared to deny us. The right to walk, and talk, among you people. With who we, the Living Dead, did dare to mingle. Never did I see the world so kind, Until the Eleventh Chaos came to mind! Shifting through the evergreen grass, Nothing here to look at. In the scattering waves, the beauty which always was, Going past the morning