Bloody Canvas Lyrics Novels & Stories

Gutting. There's no answer in sight As his soul is stripped bare. Those blips of consciousness Catch me completely unaware. A wind through the weeds... And we all bleed. Tears stung my eyes as she hit a crescendo, let the note hang, stilling her fingers. A pain no one sees. To home, I will lead. And we all bleed. Oh, how I bleed.

It was a lifetime defined not by grief or trauma, but by an unbroken, radiant joy. Until the sky turned to ash. Without warning, the golden light shattered like cheap glass. The dream fractured into a terrifying, chaotic whiplash of agonizing images. Rebecca felt a sudden, suffocating cold lock into her lungs—a violent, hacking cough that tore through her chest, leaving the metallic taste of blood on her lips. She was lying in a wooden bed, her flesh burning with a wasting mortal fever, her vision fading into a gray, terrifying dark.

What fucking bullshit is the Shit Witch going to throw at me now? “Bum bum bum bum. Painting the roses red. We’re painting the roses red. We dare not stop, or waste a drop. So let the paint be spread. We’re painting the roses reeeed. We’re painting the roses red. Oh, painting the roses red. And many a tear be shed, because we know, they’ll cease to grow. In fact, they’ll soon be dead. NOOOOO… And yet we go ahead, painting the roses red. Painting the roses red. We’re painting the roses red.” A trio of voices sang as I saw shadows of you guess it PLAYING CARDS! “OH FUCK NO! I’ll kill them all!” I clenched my hands into fists, pocketing the watch for the moment.

My hands started strumming whatever melody he wanted me to play before the lyrics started spilling from my mouth. I'm sorry to say, but today is your death day The air is thick with rot and decay Your blood will paint the cold, cracked floor Dripping like echoes from the hands before Whispers crawl from the cracks in the wall Laughter distorts a sickening call The lights flicker, the shadows Bend This isn't a dream; this is the end Run, run, but your feet won't move The darkness wraps its chains around you A sick grin forms in the blackest shade Time runs out and so will your veins

Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision—just like the rain that fell harder and harder outside. The road gleamed slick beneath the downpour. Streetlights shimmered on the wet asphalt like shattered glass. Eirene’s wolf growled low, issuing a deep-seated warning. But she ignored it. Instead, she pressed the accelerator even harder, either to outrun the pain clawing at her chest or to prove that she still had control over something—even if it was just a car speeding through a storm. “It's all because of my blood,” Eirene whispered faintly. “You live because of my blood.”

What are you saying, of course, you are my best friend I always beside you know matter what. Then he is covered in blood and I see the ground turning red and I feel drops of liquid landing on me and I look up. To my horror, I see it's raining blood staining my now trembling body. I look back at him panicked and crying while the entire world is turning red but he just shakes his head sadly crying too. -Honeybee. Roses are red. Violets are blue. I'm dead. And it's all because of you. You are a killer Braze

FOUR YEARS LATER. ELIZABETH'S POV The music lyrics pounded in my eyes very loudly as I danced to the song. Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep If I shall die before I 'wake I pray the Lord my soul to take I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind They talk shit, but I love it every time And I realize I've tasted blood and it is sweet

"What am I doing? I'm atoning for our sins." Mom swung the hammer, crushing Grayson's fingers one by one. Blood splattered onto her face, and she wiped it away in disgust. "How revolting. I can't believe someone like you actually has warm blood." Grayson finally realized that the crazed woman before him intended to kill him. He strained to shout, his voice trembling. "Help! Help me!" "Stop screaming. I used the best soundproofing materials for the renovation. It's useless," Mom said.

“TAKE OFF YOUR MASK!” Spent, my limbs drained of all feeling, and lightheaded from the blood loss, I staggered off my marker and into the side of Bobby’s platform. The black candles tumbled off the edge, rolling with flickering flames into the side of the empty golden throne. I don’t know what that antique chair was made of, but it went up in a whoosh of flames like dry kindling, interrupting Bobby’s soft, exhausted piano solo of the final instrumental track. I heard Hank drunkenly shout, “What the fuck?” But his voice was displaced by shrieks from the crowd. When I peered out from behind the pyre of flames on the stage, I glimpsed a tapestry of agony painted in deep, dark crimson.

The exquisite mix of pain and pleasure making me ache deep within. "You're a perfect canvas to paint a masterpiece on," he says, sounding almost absent or far away. My brow furrows. "What do you mean?" Blaine tears his eyes from my body and meets my gaze, and the look in them makes me shudder. It's dark and sadistic as he squeezes my left nipple even harder, making me yelp in surprise. "Cutting is an art form." His other hand digs into my right hip as he yanks me forward so I can feel the cold metal of the blade in his belt pressing into my skin. "Blood is my paint and skin is my canvas, Azira. And I've never seen a more beautiful canvas."