Lurking Antipathy
There once was a gifted raconteur, her rampant creativity was her key
But hidden inside, bitter and rageful, was she…
Her rhymes, she wrote in anger, her verse afflicted by self-inflicted pain
The image conveyed like blood and vinegar spurting from the vein
Oh, these pretty lies are her drowning dark plea.
But hidden inside, bitter and rageful, was she…
Her rhymes, she wrote in anger, her verse afflicted by self-inflicted pain
The image conveyed like blood and vinegar spurting from the vein
Oh, these pretty lies are her drowning dark plea.