She wore golden blond hair over her shoulder
Her eyes lit up like the midnight sun
Her featurs dominant, but heart grew colder
As she searched a place her soul could shun
She kept her secrets locked away in ink
A prison for her nightmares between pages
A place no mortal man could think
To seek her wishes, ambitions, and hatred
All wrapped in silk, her innosents maimed
Her mothers spouse inside her craddle
No chance for her puritys reclaim
Torn from childhood, drifted into fable
Like a scent of legend, lifted the kitchen
Like the things she witnessed took no place
Her mother, stuborn, recalled no vision
Of a daughters abuse, a mans wrongful taste
What was she to do to intervene
As the air grew thicker with malice and waste
She took in hand matches and gasoline
And set the house, the past, to blaze

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Sumthin 2 Die 4
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