My hands don’t shiver for nothing but the deathly ride,
God fears him not once but all the time
He fears me because I’m the only bride,
Before cracking open the mind I felt so strong
Love and care are not mere words but tools that charm,
The pistol is naked and so is your girl
Blood trickles down the hair from every little curl,
Beastly shadows cross your mind
You are left with thoughts like mortal and divine,
The glass edges clearly reflect no light
A self-portrait or God-made customs to abide,
Speaking of art reminds her of Gothic melodies
The ones that talk about black humour and Life as parody,
Crossing the continents come the creators
Creating the clutches they control the Crusaders,
Now why do you come to me my fearful child?
Don’t look above because the Angels are blind.
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