Feral Angels

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Feral Angels
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
-Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

Site rebuild in progress...
Kerin Schiesser & Dava Ellinger


This is not a love poem
No roses in the bedroom
Nor love in bloom
Nor withered on the vine
Nor nipped in the bud
Nor otherwise faded

This is not a love poem
Because it never got that far
Your thorns leave a scar
But not deep enough
To pierce my heart
To spill my blood
Though Iím not that jaded

It was just a little prick
And Iím no Sleeping Beauty
I wonít die for you
Just because you couldnít live for me

This is not a love poem
There will be no Phoenix from this pyre
With all this rain you inspire
I wonít get washed away
Iíll be out walking on water
In your flood of doubt

This is not a love poem
You got what you wanted from me
And you always wanted a tragedy
Raise your glass to sorrow
Drink to all the pain
Celebrate the slaughter
And welcome in the drought

I wonít be crying for you
So cry for yourself
Fill yourself up
And see your own eyes reflected
Fill up your sight
With a thousand points of night
Watch the mask crack
While you lie on your back
And lie to me

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