| You call my name with Hell fire burning faster, yet you don't realize when you speak of Satan, I'm your master. Your soul is like glass, thus it shatters. Your words are like needles made of lint, such weak attempts. Your laughter becomes louder, and you are a slave to me. The master. Keep it up. Give me the hymns to sing to. Give me the reason to wrench that worthless soul and drag you. A faltering fool, profound meaning in his self destruction. Watch carefully. The one which lacks stability. Call my name yet again. Culprit of self inflicted catastrophic fears. One who's name is yet again, found meaningless, one who's words are once again found useless. One without means, and as I said, a real voice, for if he had a voice, then I might hear his message, instead of garbled pleads of suicide. Miss matched wall, weak side open to all, easy to strike, you shall fall. Hit the ground like you dare want to, bawl little baby, for it is the very end of you. Keep up the masquerade, only long enough to find it a trend. I hear what your saying, masturbation with a knife. You are, and will be forever more. The meaning of Disgrace. A valid reason of self pity, a meaningful pleasure to commit murder. Is what I see you as. Just a target, another way to get a message across, no one will forget the shame you cried out in the middle of the night. No one will see the man you want them to see, for all those words you use are wasted upon your enemies, the ones lost deep within the Castle of Apathy. |
