Dead skin weathered. Lifeless and torn. The eyes sewn shut. And tongue from the mouth. . She lay bleeding. Scarlet stains. Ripped out the stitches. His hands blasphemy.
She wasn't born in that brothel I'm told. Well aware of where she was. Well aware of where she'd end up in what position. Dressed in red down on her knees.
Their whispers become like cries. Tears fall from blinded eyes. Ninety-nine have burned as embers. Ninety-nine have lost their lives. Tired arms now fight for life.
My heartstrings cease to strain. I've acquired a taste for poisoned lips. Drank deep of this disease in me. Adored with prying eyes. Beneath a mask made of flesh and thorns.