The blossoms have opened
and we transpire,
parting the pedals
with thick fingers.
Rising like a swarm of
insects from the garden.
This is devastation in tune.
Thousands of bodies with
one universal heat beating
through the ribcage.
These thorns will carve our
eyes and these flowers will
enshroud our souls.
Fluttering wings were meant to fly,
whispering and conspiring of
mental worlds and infinite flights.
We part the water of distant seas.
We bleed together,
stirring red into vast blue skies.
A world of good intentions
poisoned by your hidden desires,
peeling back the layers of flesh
that used to have meaning to us all.
You closed your eyes
and kissed the flames,
floating into the sun with open arms.
We watched you burn with hands tied.
We salted the earth with our tears,
and bathed the world
with our bleeding hearts.
Sing your song for the last time.
This chorus comes to silent under the
weight that we've been left to bear.
The smell of smoke still rises
from your blackened wings.
Your broken body hits
the ground like and
angel repelled from heaven.
You crawl back to the flowers
from which you came,
sleeping beneath the ashes
of everything you created.
