skin once carying the faintest blush palest pink white and lush, now dull and gray hanging from muscle and bone that have lost all tone this girl once the bell of the ball proud and tall hair like wheat in the driver’s seat the queen of the pole now climbing from a hole from the dead she is risen caught no more in her zombie prison she walks free full of glee to an unkown tune she will dance and sway bringing death every step of the way from her you should turn but you want that killer burn alone you will stand listening to the music of a deadly band a crescendo of screams not in your dreams the beat she finds such a lovely treat she will rock and rip off your cock you will cry and then you will die.
Time Pt 1
In the eaves amongst the dust and debris clutter of days gone by in a house long abandoned she sits spinning her web of lies and deceit, a silken thread drawing in any who venture near shadow her only companion. This creature once of beauty divine hair a curtain of gold multi faceted shades of the sun parts golden and bronze glitter and shine, eyes the color of a noon day sun body lithe and graceful that of a dancer a high-wire queen skin of palest white lips full and red not blood red no that would be overdone but the color of roses in the height of bloom lush and full capable of fulfilling any demand. This creature fallen from grace alone in this forgotten place, spinning her web in the hopes that one day the memory of what she once was will rise again in the minds of men both young and old. She sits both withered and alone her hair once shining and gold now a veil of grime and mold, skin once taut and supple once soft and pure now the gray of a forgotten day wrinkled and and worn, eyes the color of a noon day sun now watered and rimmed in red clouded as if already amongst the dead, lips once full and sure now drawn back blackened in a rictus grin. Time……….
Art by Rich Hillen Jr