| I sway, in the wind, like a broken tree limb, faltering with each breeze that passes. I kiss the, moon, it bleeds, I come to life, I am the blade upon the knife. This place is dire, now all has come together to conspire. A soul isn't Gold! Deaths the dealer, so make sure you look at your hand before you fold. Your tongue, my lips, violence, its love. Haunting, plaugeing, my chest is sliced, my eyes open to see the surprise. The soul is black and Gray, the turning disarray is this way. We aren't gold, deaths the dealer, so be bold. I stack, another collection of souls, I rack another victory for my world. I stand alone and cold, remembering your lips pressed to mine, I could name a million reasons why I should be with you, I could count ten times as many as why I shouldn't yet I want you, so I may be free. My life, is frozen on track, my soul slips back, retracting every feeling inside of this box, which holds an evil trickery than a fox. I raise, the shade, cascade its refreshing cold. I block the sun, with darkening thoughts. I thrive. On your flesh, I crave your blood, and soul. I am cold, and lonesome inside of this haunted world of my own Demons and desires. I am now like Gold, precious and perfect, shapeing itself into the earth like a crator. For my Wicked natured creator, great sense of Humor. I turn, haunting, your dreams. So it seems, you are lost in screams. |
