The moon broke in two in her fantasy

Angels held pitchforks to torment me

Souls were as worthless as rocks

and she crushed mine with a sinful grin

The three headed dog bowed only to her

and from its teeth hung pieces of my skin

My blood was currency in her fantasy

My tears were honey and they laughed at me

Heaven was built upon her heart

Its gates spat sulfur and brimstone at me

“Reality is cruel and owned by the wicked” she cried

Out there, her heart belonged to the heartless

And when we were through, she knew she had tried

But I sold my soul for lust and thoughtlessness

I can’t forget the look in her eyes when she knew I lied

For the fraction of a second, I grew a conscience

And leaving with what remained of her pride,

she prayed for Heaven and Hell’s vengeance