Poetry and Lyrics
Hate-Mail/Love-Letters

The Angel, the Girl, and the Graveyard

Lost in the forest of my fleeting thoughts
She's buried in the cemetery of my mind
Where once was my stomach tied in knots
Now no more:

There's a place where girls will appear godsent
Where demons put angels up for rent
They call it a sacred institution
But I'll cast my lot with Evolution

I've seen the dreams naiveté allows
Crushed by militant wedding cake vows
Haunted souls where disenchantment lies
Filled only with echoes, with spiders and flies

A traumatic wager-'til death do us part'-
It can open a wound like a stake through the heart:
A gaping hole through which to take a peak
At hideous things of which we do not speak.

© 2004 Aaron Bayley