| X |
| papers flying in my hands like a stolen butterfly barely wilting on my fingertips and fluttering as i speak each word aloud and try to transcend this ink and make a soul rise from this page (like lazarus) and i can play JESUS sancto sancto sancto (i am a god on the stage) black blood oozing and you rise Rise RISE it's alive my frankenstein i am frankenstein i dive into the lie i have built (i draw closer to God on the stage). |