Whipped Pistols
Whipped Pistols
Swirling, twirling
Through veins robbed of life
Venom, addictive
Souless, Alone, Unworthy
What one such as this
Would dare to hope
His equal would be found
Passed out on cool tile
Of public restroom floor
Enchanted, Awakened
A poison tipped tongue
Indulging, fornicating
Addiction to the union
Drunk on the angst
Against the world
Caught up in youth forgotten
Missing Milestones
Pissing anarchy
In the face of the Queen
Barely beating hearts
Existing on shared mutalation
Now chained to eternity
On the dull curve of the blade
Left to bleed out
On the floor of the Chelsea
Across the pond
To the depths of hell
A forgotten alley leads to cell
Viciousness
No more welcome awaits
The King and Queen of bedlam
Did it their way.
~Natasha Head~
Comments
apt and thought provoking...
invite you to join us today,
thanks for the attention..
we are about less than 8 hours to go before closing..
hope to see you in.
nice love some sex pistols you know...frickin crazy but doing it their way...they used their voice before they faded away...
L. Cohen loved The Chelsea too, hung there with Janis Joplin -- as you may or may not know.
xo