Wax Figures
Under an open sky of broken dreams
An angel with black and tattered wings
Whispers of death and morbid things
We as wax figures are molded
Into the vague shapes of human beings
Without all those thoughts and unnecessary feelings
Breath is needed but seldom wanted
Our dreams and our thoughts are always haunted
By sneers and snickers that scarred and taunted
See this world for what it is
A cold, dark place with nothing to give
And it's oh so tragic we have only this life to live