Scorched..

your face is set in ivory...beautiful and cold
as the nails dig the skin of my palm
wonder why doesnt it hurt like you used to
with all the finery your god bestowed

wilderness is a beautiful mess
still somehow the roots never fade
the finalty of death scares me
though i cant be vanquished by mere words

a name built today fades at a later time
as repetitions favour only the cursed
i am not lost in this charade
but then i never even won a dime

you could've waited a while
and see my sky turn grey and black
but u still ran away cursing me
as i kept there scorched