Twisted like a rose vine climbing up a stone wall,
Dead as the silence waiting on the phone call,
Pretty as the picture hanging at a funeral,
Cooler than the cold air, guiltless as the criminal.
Cause it's a beautiful kind of sadness,
And we're a magical kind of madness,
Maybe we're made of the finest kind of smoke,
Burning our devilish souls.
Cause it's a dangerous kind of comfort,
Leaving you drowning in the desert,
And nobody knows what we don't know,
Deep in our devilish souls.
The streets are silent darling lets have a party,
You're sick and tired give it up do it our way,
Drink a little poison it's not like you were ever alive,
You tell me that you're dark side, it's your favourite side.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Silence
PoetryDarker than my usual work. But I needed something new. And in this moment these words are most powerful to me.