Like My Own

There's no sorrow like the sorrow of a martyr'd soul,
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of one who is alone.
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of loving one who's gone,
There's never been a sorrow so much deeper than my own.

poem by Luna Moon
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Velvet Sky

Velvet sky,
Oh velvet sky,
Black velvet sky with arms open wide.
Lovely ips,
Oh lovely lips,
If only yours would give mine a kiss.
Open eyes,
Oh open eyes,
How open eyes only Close my mind.
Scarlet lace,
Oh scarlet lace,
How did it feel to fall down from grace?
Blissful clouds,
Oh blissful clouds,
In this fever I'll surely drown.
Broken time,
Oh broken time,
I'd give it all up if you would be mine.
Velvet sky,
Oh velvet sky,

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poem by Luna Moon
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Black Lace

Black Lace,
In the shadow of a day.
You're wrong,
So wrong.
I can't even explain,
Can't think to describe,
How sick.
How hurtful.
How utterly opposite your accusations are.
I've lost your trust?
Well you've lost my hope.
No wonder isolation comes to mind.
Hint,
Hint,
Do you catch my drift?
My day is a shadow,
When you accuse of Black Lace.
There's no obvious remorse.
Like maybe you like to accuse,
Like maybe I like isolation.

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poem by Luna Moon
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Fire On The Willow

Weary beneath the Weaping Willow,
I lie so lonesome and secluded from the world.
Away from what's realtiy and the truth of life,
As my skitzophrenia engulfs me,
And burns away my once self like a wildfire.
Fire beneath the Willow Tree,
And no one gives a thought to my agonizing burns.
The fire consumes me, swallows me, eats me alive,
And I'm overzealous in my attempts to be quenched.
Completely alone and pleading for my life,
As the truculent fire leaps to the Willow.
The fire licks up the Willow Tree,
And flames creep into my eyes,
So all I may witness is Hell.
Hell inside myself blazes the world around me,
And nothing's as it seems to be.
All alone and incarserated in flames,
As fire burns up the Willow Tree.

poem by Luna Moon
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Optimistic Suicide

Her screams are that of a,
Harmonious disaster,
Caged in a,
Rubberband prison.
Her melancholy intentions,
Lead to a freezer burn.
Shes anxious for an encore,
Shes anxious for her turn.
She's all tripped up,
And her heart's skippin' beats.
She's feelin' this groove,
Yeah she's feelin' the heat.
Rev up that rhythm,
She's gotta have her,
Optimistic Suicide.
Shes wallowing in her pitty,
Shes dabbling in her pride.
It rattles to the bone,
Like a deathly rose.
But that's how suicide goes.

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poem by Luna Moon
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