A mirage of sorts, more teeth than a piranha stores.
Devil has his flashbacks only when nostalgia forms.
Moment of triumph, line up to accept your fate in hand.
Roped in and tied up, death for every time you escape the plan.
I was too beautiful to die, ruthless yet suitable for life.
My husband was a ghost in a nation of usual decline.
At most we're creating a new road to travel on,
Even if my final hour shows that my soul is sold in Babylon.
I met a new man, who's plan was to show me the world.
Grew tired of seeing me form into the loneliest girl.
Just a year ago, I was unfortunately forced into marriage.
Opposite of Christian, wishing for a morgue and a parish.
The white man tried to bring democracy to our land,
A plan worth dying for, yet hypocrisy lent its hand.
Two evils do not make it safe even in the pouring rain,
Where each droplet represents hope, until it spreads into a morbid chain.
Each apple of my eye grew ripe under the disguise of moonlight.
So I mutter a prayer, huddle my hair to stand in line to unite.
Eccentric dementia, my dimension is glued to transparent thoughts.
I'll be glad for one day, when I leave behind what my marriage bought.
A fine line I'm scared to cross, especially with no destination.
My new friends only specialties involve stress, no patience.
Please allow me to be sedated in tranquility.
Only if life were easy, it all ended on my man's guilty plea.
Adultery was a choice for a better state of mind and peace.
A crime of ease, in my country, it was always time to flee.
House of life at my fingertips, they didn't let me sign the lease.
Bull painted red going berserk trying to find the green.
Since leaving my husband was illegal, there is a deep message I hold.
We will both be killed by force, so my stress knows it's role.
So the next time you're so quick to send a text on the go,
Know that my lover and I are hand in hand saying, "Let's go get stoned."
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