W****S AND ANGELS

W****S AND ANGELS
Bleed from my wounds, for I am a disgusting creature.
Holy wine should be flowing through my veins,
But the blood of a sinner crests within.
My thoughts should be on you,
But the mind’s eye is focused on my pain

The one I see in the mirror is a dirty w***e,
Alive in myself, and feeling dead in the Holy one
But you see me as a beautiful creature.
Although full of tears and sorrows,
And yet blessed with enduring features.
Shine on me, and show me your angels,
For I am a broken w***e.

A crown of agony decorates my head.
The somber tears adorn my face like the face paint of the prostitutes.
I wear the cloak of the dead.
Demons masquerade as jesters,
Making me the fool in their mockery.

My throat bleeds from the screams.
My mouth spews the ashes of tainted offerings.
Religion rapes the purity within.
But the Sacred One weeps in sorrow,
For His child is drenched in the sent of a w***e.
COPYRIGHT 2006: MATT THOMPSON