with the anguish, dread succumbing to the strangers pledge
It's the angered dead that arise to the sanguine red
the painted shed of the backyard with the grains that shed
And descend to the underworld with a pain that bled
while Cain is led through the process of breaking bread
a shameful bred race if the aim is well placed
the angst and stale hate rotate and tail blaze
The pathway separates creating extra lakes
In the pavement. Fail- safe to the ancient tailgates
It's the raiding male fate of the nest debate
while the countesses praise is sprayed in hell's cave
you better get your pale grave
remove the country side slumber mines
and run and hide on the underside form a ONE to FIVE
the rainbow of the hundred wise touch the sky
before doves can fly and the colours come alive
come to life, live happily ever after in the summer time
the end isn't just words on the screen
it's the other side
the side of the past, the fallen and ghost
the side where they cast a colane in cloak
and where Casper calls on his folks
your with us now, the sharp infamy that cuts deep
the entity that must weep
and the enemy that just bleeds
enter, breathe, and touch deep
The ashes of the graced
The passion of the race
and the lashes on the slaves
Cassius on display in a casket on the way
To the masses gone decayed
and the "has-beens" of today
you better watch yourself and looks at the faith shatter
the earth matter that creates the worlds matter
It's the sight for sore eyes that invites the tour guide
the harbinger of death that ignites the torch lights
Let it burn.. let it burn… let the fire spread rampant
and the ire get static while the vampire dregs panic
the solstice coin branches the battlement's armoury
While the cattle in harmony march on the chateaux of Carnegie
The battle and army siege
while the travellers start to leave
And the rabble imparts a cleave
on the clavicle artery
The shadow of Lardon reeks in the castle of a chartered speech
Its not a matter of harming me when your lance isn't armed or sheathed
Looks at the big picture
the thick mixture of solvent
the switch hitter and the quick pitcher's involvement
do you get it now or do I need Hitler to solve it?
Its life, its death, it's the ditch withered beyond it
this is what makes us who we are, the dark that binds us
the spark inside us
the Mark of Titus
We embark the tidal, of the sea in search for isles on the beach
And the islands on the reef while myans lie beneath
It's the wasteland with sabre made from angels
this is the cradle of a day old
The world of razorblades and rainbows
The World of Rainbows and Razor Blades by Olivia Graveley is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.