|Picked clean, like the bones of the deceased.
O sinister one, you heave abnormalities.
These dark nights cascade down on my wretched soul.
Yet...the forgiven is so desolate.
Beligerent to my heart, though you are.
The adoring few...adore you no more.
Cast my way yet another shadow.
In your presence, I feel vile and weak.
All this while you seize my holdings.
Given no time for me to seek shelter.
O how you laugh at my feebleness.
And o how you breath deeply, the smell of my demise.
This river you cast your memories to,
flows through frigid viens of my dying self.
I leave you with a promise...
only you could praise.
You will, one day, be the sweet sweet death of me.
And that smile that you never could find,
will surface like an army of thousands.