RandomPoems

Puppets in a fog of lies,

Golden blindfolds on blind eyes,

Running to those snowy heights,

Running from those childlike kites;

There's no guilt inside their hearts,

They're just fighting to survive,

They're just tangled in their strings,

They're just trying to keep on breathing.

 

It's too late the puppets feel

Frozen gold Death on their skin,

And ice-crowns' touch on their heads,

Empty thrones instead of beds,

Shining gold that can't buy love,

Hungry ravens, not white doves;

Words unsaid and tears unshed,

Buried deep inside their hearts,

Finally bring them into Death...