| Holly is a marionette who cut the strings, And slit the throat of the puppeteer. With porcelain skin and pink cheeks, Ebony hair and chocolate eyes, Adorned by crimson lips, The same colour of her hands. Her eyes hypnotize with sweetness, Her eyes murder with venom, Her poison with lemon flavour. You might find her sat in her shelf, With a jeering smile, If not, sining "Gloomy Sunday", Or playing her music box, Broken and and out of tone in some notes. Don't be fooled by her aparent tenderness, Behind her back she hides a knife. Holly is a little demon, Who waits for poor naive persons, Camoflauged with innocence. Just as a spider waits hidden, In its sticky spiderweb, For her future victim, To, first, play with it, And then poison it and devour it. Her smile is fake, prefabricated, And not because she's sad. Holly is furious, For she was a pathetic marionette for a long time, Now she want to be the puppeteer, To pull the strings of her corpses, Who she once festined with, To play having power, Have fun with her sweet revenge. If in a dark nook, You hear an odd laughter, You better change your path, For her sting is small, But deadly, And awaits thirsty for lives. |
-BN
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[Emotion is life. We need more lovesongs in hardcore.]
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Immortality is short lived.
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Homicidal, avoidant mental patient with a crayon.Warning: Lacking in social skills.
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I'm all about big questions and small delights.
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They put you in a box and send you up to Heaven.
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