The Harlot Bride

Painted pretty perfect outside and within

But just because you mask your skin doesn’t mean that your bones aren’t decaying.

You’re a mummy with no tomb,

Nothing more than an Egyptian queen

Cake on that foundation and lipstick extra thick to impress all those pass you by.

Then watch it crumble off at the end of every night.

And as the days go by, your bones begin to collapse within turning your pretty painted figure into dust and ash.

The stench of rotting flesh rises freely through your mask.

But you sell yourself anyway! Whatever it takes to keep you alive,

But you’re dying inside.

Where is your heart beat? Have you become deaf, even to its rhythm?

Oh, painted, broken harlot, you were meant to be a Bride.

It kills me inside to see what you’ve become.

Did you know that your Groom is still waiting?

Did you know that He’s still buying you time?

Yet, you reserve your hand for other men

Who use the exact purpose creation was not intended for

Your mind has become an enigma in which your beautiful being, is nothing more than a whore


You’ve got a heart-shaped box in the back of your closet with all the romantic trinkets He’s ever given you.

All the love notes He’s ever sent

You are rubber-banded there too.

Every once in a while, He sends you an invitation, just a reminder that He’s still waiting.

And every time you see it, a spark of life appears in your heart.

Just an ember, but hot enough to catch flame if you would just let it

Yet, you’d rather be subject to gentlemen like Cleveland and Madison

Could your heart still beat without the adrenaline?

Has this nature replaced your purpose?


He is so jealous for your attention, your affection,

to just look Him in the eye and tell Him that you remember Him.

He’s got a ring in His pocket, the one you gave Him back.

The same one that you thought was a shackle, that ring is the key to your freedom.

Kara Darkseid has his grip upon you

You’re not one of them, you’re one of us

An alien to a world you don’t know


The Groom is a gentleman, He won’t force you, He won’t make you, but He won’t stop chasing you.

He seeks you, He longs for you. He wants you back; all He’s ever wanted is you.

His jealousy endures.

As strong as the grave grips the dead, so strong is His love for you.

His passion for you burns with unquenchable flame not even ocean floods can extinguish.

But you lick your scars alone in the dark, afraid that accepting this invitation will inflict bullets on the wounded.


So, as strong as his feet upon this ground

He won’t leave Apokolips without you

He’s desperate for you

Open up your ears,

Let your heart be heard

This is not your war

So, where have you gone?

Whatever you’ve done,

He doesn’t stop loving

He always sees the good in people

Even when justice sees the darkness

This is not your war,

Put your eyes down