Bring forth thine power,
Like echoing labels that hide in skin
You evade the truth behind innocent eyes.
Lick your wounds
And face the sun,
For morning never comes soon enough.
Like rain falls over Eden's domain,
You always played the victim,
God knows, you are the fool.
Dance, young squander, Dance,
Around the merry-go-round of lies,
You entice.
Mercy comes only to the merciful,
For wretchedness never set well on the edge.
I beg not for forgiveness,
But for your own salvation,
For you are nothing more than a lie.
©Ashley Leslie 2013
