Omoi-kokoro

Run to bed children before it gets dark Ghosts can speak too, In words as hushed as a lullaby A song... A symphony of fury unwound, Played upon strings of a heart scorned by love itself, Raw with untold beauties. Rooms where teddy bears burn The melancholy death of the child inside me Memories... An exhibition of atrocity in the eyes of the damned Bone pale hearts torn asunder by a universe as enraged as a beast left unfed Secrets untold leave tragic scars on flesh so feeble and cold. Though lies turn riddled tongues to stone. A mirror... A Tapestry of tender wounds unzipped the taste of hell on the lips of an angel deformed