let bells tolling like teardrops scream,
as she's dragging him down, down.
like the whisper of death,
blooming from the drop of red on his once-white shirt--
he knows there's no going back now.
if hell's frozen over, then
like the drums pounding in the heat
a thumping heart, a tribal beat,
she'll be queen and he'll be king.
unconquerable, uncontrollable,
she'll rage like the fire she fears--
she'll trace her freezing fingers
down his bloodstreaked face.
sweat and tears, ice and frost,
high on their pedestals,
hated and adored.
but they can't stop the revolution,
so she'll smile with a mouth stitched shut,
and scared white eyes
as her fortress burns.
she'll watch the shuddering retreat,
the death of a king,
and she'll see the rings and rings of smoke,
as they all come tumbling down.
Awards
White Gold Ring Aug 16, 2010
Creative!
Aug 27, 2010
Highly enjoyable
Sep 1, 2010