Angel of disgrace, attire of red,
May you die to gain the power of dread,
Fall onto the ground, no longer tread,
Peace be with you, yet leave it unsaid.
You lied to me not once but twice,
Take your punishment; this is your price,
Let us leave you here, for the rats and mice,
Prepare for the night, I make myself precise.
The passion of light bestows you a lie,
Make yourself clear; all will see you die,
Do not hide those tears; we want you to cry,
Under us is your fate; this you can rely.
If there was a way for you to be free,
It would have been found, before we could see,
Though all hope is lost; lost for thee,
No longer will I be held, no longer for your glee.
My pain still bores on, even as you do not cause,
Why will I stay beneath all the city laws,
Nothing such as this has struck me to pause,
Something is wrong, on the paper it draws.
Come forth and explain, show me the way,
I need to escape from the frowning of day,
Forever be gone, be free, speak your say,
Never forget, the kindness I can lay.
If only I could have seen such a light,
Before every mistake had be trite,
Those feelings already here to despite,
Not to be taken back, not one near right. |
Submission Name: Grace of the Dawn
