I sit here; waiting.
For that unsuspecting Stranger.
Yearning that someone will feel my presence.
Peasants in rags,
Priests in glistening robes,
No one sheds a tear for my soul.
Are they afraid of me?
They flock away like doves.
Graceful, never looking back.
Never wondering about the truth in their predator's heart.
They leave me here,
Only preying on their mercy.
Only praying for their mercy.
This is the parking lot of Sanctuary
We’re all predators; we all wait
We are the children God forgot to call when he'd be late
When he'd never come home
My time fills with the smoke trailing from my cancer.
My blood boils from the heat
And my song fades; the doves have stopped cooing.
Forever I have waited
And evermore shall I wait.
This is the parking lot of Sanctuary
Carelessly build with shattered souls,
Resting on the Gravel Of Damnation.
Copyright 2004 scorpionstale
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