My lines I had not the chance to draw,
They were sketched and then were scored,
My lines cut across the dotted door,
As the rigidity of the inevitable is restored.
Slowly filled in by portions insecure,
Inconstantly furnished with ornaments unsure,
And soon the crux is covered,
Laid beneath wreaths of rhinestone chains,
Deception deluxe, never discovered,
Hold onto life by it's platinum reigns.
And ride it, it is the horse that never fades,
It's powerful legs whip through the earth,
It's mad-mane moves through all the shades,
As if aware of the anguish of your birth.
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