word_eyes Posted September 28, 2005 Report Posted September 28, 2005 Liquid sky pouring down the yellow rain against the purple pavement tonight, broken angel, a child with two unseeing eyes searching for the places where she may have hidden sight, dying man, falls into withering hands, victim of another man; his love, obsessive fiend, mother's favorite wasted scream think of all the things she's given up. No, dreams aren't the only things imaginary, look at us. He lies to them before they go to bed they die amongst the living, and sleep amongst the dead, children shouldn't play with severed heads not knowing that the bodies lye behind what their parents' said. No, dreams aren't the only things imaginary, look at us.
Peredhil Posted November 21, 2005 Report Posted November 21, 2005 Wow. Interesting imagery and a savage commentary.
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