Arcane
I want to break the silence, Without bringing forth the noise From the sky The colors come out just to reflect their inferiority complex Looking for the attention secretly, From all the sewer mains. We are all in the gutter But the rose knows And has the skill to outsmart All those unconcerned fools. Deep in the arcane yard— the one her father prepared for her - She’s reminded how to bend without cracking or yielding to complacency. Effortlessly beautiful But hard The venom Rests between the warrior knife and the solitery sting. You could pick her, but beware The moment of regret lies neigh Your wormmongering heart Is entirely seen-through Especially when your tongue spews honey of blatant lies. Some who intoxicatingly picked the rose, thought she was safe to hold. Too late they learned, voluptuous thoughts lead too many a heart to decay.
