Free muffins to anyone that can guess the subject.
She's His Birth Stone
They met in passing,
in a line where crucifixes choked the streets,
and shot jolts at the moon.
Puppetshows of power in place of vespers.
A streetlight love,
where blackouts glitter like emotion would,
had it not burned out.
Champagne glasses made of shards.
I've been hiding someone from you.
She's your fault.
She was his legacy,
a two way mirror and he's on the wrong side,
swearing its like a movie.
Fate like birth stones, sad like gravestones.
Killing in the name,
of inconvenience and everything unsaid,
like war on the caged.
We'll lose like they lost our fight for freedom.
I've been hiding someone from you.
She's your fault.
;)
