Demons.

Pale skin and ashes,

Rotting, disappear,

In the blink of an eye,

Vanishing.

The sky turns red,

As I stand with you,

There, right there, inside the black dome,

Murmuring something.

Animal bones,

White feathers on my bed,

With all due respect,

This is not the skeleton I've been looking for.

Beneath the ocean,

I walk for hours to find a blue lagoon.

The thin line of a different substance,

Fill every color from its surroundings.

I don't understand.

Why it has to be dark,

When the sun goes down,

Though the world is not aching?

Acid, gas, and a broken doll made of wood,

Killing and pointing,

Even though the owl's still awake,

And the martyr suffers persecution and death for advocating.

Where is my life?

Where is yours?

Back to a time where our love is infinite,

We killed our leader to be loved.