#writeblu

[bwblubw]

Large ears heard gossip rat talk that would in turn bite into the curious sniffles of rodent girl. Her voice had shrunk like mouse, so faint it squeaked about for a chance to speak again. Muzzled with the worries of failed chances her confidence had grown slim. The bones brittle on pink paw feet. Smaller she had gotten each day that her patches of white fur fell off gracefully. Hopeful she remained and learned to live with less than her bite of cheese. Thinner had she gotten for the chance of glee. Her once certain ideals so very obsolete.

“The Price of Model Beauty,” Fiore Blu 

[bwblubw]

It is difficult to correct an error made. For a crooked tree can only grow the way the wind and ground bent it to be after early age.

Growing With Problems, Fiore Blu.

[bwblubw]

As grace comes in my room, I sigh so dearly, with snow so light it is crystal clear, that day as broken as soul may be, has written the world against you and me.

Apart, Fiore Blu

[bwblubw]

Fire Baby

I am by no means a lyricist. Nor do I intend to pretend to be one. However, considering the last lyrics were appreciated, here's some more for you guys. Enjoy!~ Fire baby, fire baby. Gimme pyrotechnics. Burn my soul and all my desires. You've got flame, you've got style, you've got all that I need. If only you'd stay with me? I've been waiting so long just for some fun. Lurking corners for the number one. Then there you were so bright when you smiled. I was touched, heart stolen when you said I was yours now and forever. I needed loving and touching before anyone else. Yet, so many others crowded my plea for help. I tried to let you know I existed when I screamed louder than the witches. It's so hard to let you know I love you when I'm not in your field of vision. Divide the seas, cross all the T's, I've got a perfect plan to recapture thee. Put my coins in. Now play that rhythm. Fire baby, fire baby. Gimme pyrotechnics. Burn my soul and all my desires. You've got flame, you've got style, you've got all that I need. If only you'd stay with me. Little liar how you cross me. Gave me all these excuses about making meetings. At nine became ten and ten became five in the morning. I stopped waiting on the couch watching tv because I was burning up electricity. Though I wish we were still electricity connected, you had your plug in another outlet. Then the rumors start to spread to all our acquaintances. Our life became a contagion. We were filled with allegations. Like "Pray tell, where were you last night? I bet those honeys treated you real nice!" Irresponsibly kicked in; I started to drink; the bottle was my only friend. Pour another shot, We drink away our follies for fake love scenes. Fire baby, fire baby. Gimme pyrotechnics. Burn my soul and all my desires. You've got flame, you've got style, you've got all that I need. If only you'd stay with me Your hot-headed now when I ask a question. I recalled the blow to my cheek. My plan anew, was misbegotten. I wanted your head by any means. Spit on me, choke me, drag me, somehow I'm still your queen? You think you got it all smooth with sparks. Give me a bucket full of my tears to set this fire off! You wanna know how angry I can get? Take a seat front view, here's my final kiss. No intermissions on the inquisition. I declare war for this angel has fallen. Pop the cherry, No one's a Virgin Mary in this bad dream. Fire baby, fire baby. Gimme pyrotechnics. Burn my soul and all my desires. You've got flame, you've got style, you've got all that I need. If only you'd stay with me. And, had not cheated. -Fiore Blu

[bwblubw]

I pay my debt In lives that scar; With whips in rotten flesh; Teeth during each thrust and hearts that are engulfed in lies; Cursed with welts and blisters, suffer I. If only for you grace shall befall In this next life.

For My Child, by Fiore Blu

[bwblubw]

To Eliot

Eliot, Maybe, God will pray for the fallen in nights of stolen thieves. When ready with carriages they come picking at ours knees. In time when knights’ folly worsen that so lost and confused in march they travel. In lack of golden rain does acid melt the proud face. When showers have come in blood and raid - for shields to protect them against his foes do they honor in high praise. In Christ how long the wait. Of the commendable name, many told tales good in standing posts along the days. Yielded against the victory, spiced in bladed misery were they. Yet, the choice is given to one so great that mind his men he may. Maybe, God will come if thee pray more or bless a little less each day. - Fiore Blu

[bwblubw]

Wrong Way

The box is your confine. And, you can't move, keep shaking. Jail is where you go. If you forgot the cage you tried so much to free, it's only ever right there. If and only if you'd open your eyes. No one said this life was pleasant. You'd choose any other kind. You drift off with lazy eyes to worlds that don't exist. It might do you justice to read the law cause sleeping is just like being dead. The box is your confine. And, you can't move, keep shaking. Jail is where you go. - Fiore Blu

[bwblubw]

The Merit is short. A few pages long./ Before the death court, The count makes the speech./ The whistle is subtle. A lung disease./ Dancing across the judges's sheets. Scribbled the words of testimony./ The count asks the fate, chains aiding shame. The words he preach -/ The night sky enliven a terrible lack of mercy.

In The Night, Dance Sly, by Fiore Blu