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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=558484" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>If Death Had A Face, It Would Be Pretty.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A porcelain Doll <br>Dressed like the Grim Reaper<br>In this pit of pure darkness<br>I fall even deeper</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shrouded in mystery<br>Consumed by suicide<br>An obsession with control<br>That I try to hide</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Playing this life<br>Like one hand of poker<br>Where I am the Queen<br>And, God is the Joker</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, the Devil's the King<br>Who always reigns surpreme<br>It's like a nightmare I'm stuck in<br>Some screwed* up lucid dream</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Skies of Vanilla-<br>Except that they're NOT<br>All I see is darkness<br>Until my eyes start to rot</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, then a hint of some light<br>Again-just a tease! <br>Another joke from the 'master'<br>And, now the skies start to freeze</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hell' may be on fire-<br>But, it's heaven that's COLD<br>Eternal Peace? <br>I'm not entirely sold</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Fiction'-I'll call it<br>A master-piece, even! <br>But, darkness consumes me<br>So, it's fiction I can't believe in! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A view of this world<br>With a saddist's telescope<br>That leaves me in agony<br>With no faith and no hope</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I try to look away<br>Yes, my eyes I try to close<br>Yet, toward this dark pit<br>It seems the path that I chose</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So on I continue<br>As if magnetically drawn<br>Again, with this riddle<br>As if God's only pawn</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, when I get close? <br>This puzzle-I start to solve<br>Right in front of my face<br>The answers seem to dissolve</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, with wreckless ambition<br>To simply conquer DEATH<br>I look to the sky<br>And, question: what's left? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a Pile of Ashes<br>I lay strewn on the ground<br>As my voice begs for freedom...<br>Yet, I don't make a sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">© copyright 2010 Nicole Settimi/Dark Lyric Poetry<br>Dark Lyric Poetry by The Dark Artist Nicole Settimi</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Note: *changed or edited for website, email for original version)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Nicole+Settimi">Nicole Settimi</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=558484" data-title="If Death Had A Face, It Would Be Pretty. de Nicole Settimi" data-description="A porcelain Doll 
Dressed like the Grim Reaper
In this pit of pure darkness
I fall even deeper

Shrouded in mystery
Consumed by suicide
An obsession with control
That I try to hide

Playing this life
Like one hand of poker
Where I am the Queen
And..."></div>
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