That Which Erodes the Most Tender of Things - The Black Dahlia Murder

Won’t you rest your ruined head my weary child

This world was not for thee

I send you now the promised land

Not one breath did you heave stilly born

Unto this earth sleeping so soundly in my arms

A slug-like trail of ochre fluids where we’ve danced

The sun is setting now I hold a modest hand in vain

My lung emit a sigh

What fiend would take these tiny eyes and show them to the dark

Gods just a lie

Never born into this den of sin

That which erodes the most tender of things

After the eve have fallen

The lights are sinking low

Shadows would hide that life

In him could never grow

A hollow gaze peers from the cradle black

Imagining his shining eyes just sockets staring back

Witness the baptism skeletal the world would shun

Reject the purest form of love

A mother to her son

I proceed to nurse him

I could almost smile

I entertain the notion

That he did live this while

But he’s dead to this world

Carved out just like my heart

Soaked up and washed so lovingly

Cherished son unconditionally

In our secret world alone

Situation delecate crudely frowned upon

In our sacred love undone

Never born into this den of sin

That which erodes the most tender of things

After the eve has fallen

The lights are sinking low

Shadows would hide that life

In him could never grow

A hollow gaze peers from the cradle black

Imagining his shining eyes just sockets staring back

Witness the baptism skeletal the world would shun

Reject the purest form of love

A mother to her putrid rotting son