CAMELOT FANTASIES

POETRY OV PAIN

The scent ov the rain took a toll, with the essence of her pain.
Her poetry, took the blame.
Chasing the evidence, ov the insane.
Beautiful her restraints, cosmetic was her flame.
Damaging her luv, with the crimson stain.
Lifes pillaging, became her mundane.
Never will her life, be the same.
Until she is received, within his domain.
Timely creating, a luver gone insane.
Being in luv, with the crimson vein.
If life could wash away, all ov the pain.
Let it fly away, and not remain.
Presumptuous life, is slow, mundane.
Pain, it has no restraints.
Just a slight numbing, to never go away.
Let my luv, bathe in you my rain.