Twisted - Evanel Skye

A bullet twisted, straight through your mind.
If you ask me, you seem to be blind.
Blinded by me you can't see a thing.
It's not how I am; your little bird with broken wing.

As the clouds part and finally you see,
You stand alone. Alone and without me.
As I leave the breeze seems to carry my song
And you finally realize that it's been too late for much too long
You fall to your knees, and resign yourself to your fate.
And as you die you look up to see me, perched on your gate

Staring at you
My eyes a pale blue
You wonder if it's true
Was I just as twisted as you?

© Evanel Skye, Aug 1999