Rebecca

Rebecca, Rebecca release the sweet rose trapped into your fingernails, release the sweet rose that lacks entirely of thorns, it posses no sin, no threat to the pale of your palm. Rebecca, Rebecca, just let the entirety of it go, let is spun out of your mind, melt to the pavement, to the glued soles of your worn platforms. Rebecca, Rebecca do not resent the dawn coming through dust, bastard child of your love with the dusk, Rebecca my love the night is falling to the ground, the soundless leave of the comets welcome unwanted newly born sunrise.

Rebecca, Rebecca redemption is escaping your grasp, angel of mystics, doll of the clouds, nymph of the asphalt, striking the earth with voice of the divine, your sanctity is bound to the fear of your soul, doomed to the haunt, til again you are reborn.

Rebecca, Rebecca, born sweetly into sin, the candle in the dark that's blazing god's house, the candles of consecration burning the altar of misplaced prayers and intense violation of purity. Rebecca, Rebecca, and then she is feared by the parishioners and the nuns in their weekly pilgrimage for the love of some god, oh then she is feared by the mums with their children by the hand, feared by the sight of a sweetness of girl wearing her green eyes, pure blond of the strands lost in front of arson fire, mistaken by flames of a church evolved in bonfire. Oh and then she is feared gripping the wick in her hand. Oh Rebecca, forgiven by none, the scorn of old eyes, neighbours gather at her spite, every little soul of suburbia waking to her crime.

Rebecca, rebecca, didn't you believe like I? Rebecca weren't you god's most precious child? Rebecca weren't you supposed to be the saint of our lives? Wasn't your song that of the good lord? Rebecca what's going on? Is the parish the end of the road? Rebecca you'd behave and be sweet, you'd be good and polite, you'd be the tiny goddess that went silent to a nod, Rebecca what is going on?

Oh but Rebecca you've crawled into your skin and there you will stay forever more, never to been seen as the angel of your progenitor, Rebecca you've found out another kind of life, that won't allow no explained whys.

Rebecca pulled out from a needle eye, your rescue is flaming reflections on your eyes, no matter the faces of horror, you've found your redemption, your forgiving archangel is your own. You've born into your skin, you've found the blissful sin setting you apart, the freeing sign of an actual beating heart. Pulled out from walking death back into life, with no virginal gowns a shameful way to birth the new spirit of true.

Oh will you miss Jesus? Yes, but Rebecca, Rebecca today you've spread flames to your old life, how does it feel like to leave everything behind?

Rebecca, Rebecca with none by your side.
September 27th, 2009 at 07:33am