Stained Promises
darkrose
Posts: 40
Stained glass walls secretly built in between us.
He had created this great confusion.
And it eventually surrounded me, entirely.
Exterior paintings, painted in his illusion,
Which rids the view of me, perfectly.
When did he begin creating this dome?
I've been immerged in his glass tomb, unwillingly.
Distracted in the distorted.
His masterpiece, his stained glass walls hold many lies.
Invisible until now, but the colors have grown too dark to look through.
His lies mixed and blended too close to the interior.
Empty promises stranded and watered so closely together.
As I begin to feel inferior.
His smug reflection becomes clearer, now.
His reflection is all the remains of us.
Smiling and adoring, he is quite happy facing this mirror.
But the paint is running together, now.
As the evil paintbrush is over used.
Maybe it is he, who needs to improve.
Leaning down so lovingly upon me, pretending to really care.
Glaring into his own self- image, admiring his own loving stare.
As I begin to chip away at these walls of lies, my pain peels away.
Refraining from false hope, I scrape further.
Surpassing the surface, till my fingers bleed.
If he wishes me insane all he need's is to ignore my cry's,
And continue to degrade.
He had created this great confusion.
And it eventually surrounded me, entirely.
Exterior paintings, painted in his illusion,
Which rids the view of me, perfectly.
When did he begin creating this dome?
I've been immerged in his glass tomb, unwillingly.
Distracted in the distorted.
His masterpiece, his stained glass walls hold many lies.
Invisible until now, but the colors have grown too dark to look through.
His lies mixed and blended too close to the interior.
Empty promises stranded and watered so closely together.
As I begin to feel inferior.
His smug reflection becomes clearer, now.
His reflection is all the remains of us.
Smiling and adoring, he is quite happy facing this mirror.
But the paint is running together, now.
As the evil paintbrush is over used.
Maybe it is he, who needs to improve.
Leaning down so lovingly upon me, pretending to really care.
Glaring into his own self- image, admiring his own loving stare.
As I begin to chip away at these walls of lies, my pain peels away.
Refraining from false hope, I scrape further.
Surpassing the surface, till my fingers bleed.
If he wishes me insane all he need's is to ignore my cry's,
And continue to degrade.
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my heart to a sister in emancipation