A Mutte In Heat
Waking unto another day as Babylon and deep inside you know...
That it's going to be the same; trying to manufacture joy, from pain ?
Yet afore his sun ascends while shadows cling highnoon this rattling their
Chains of perdition; left screaming amid these tombs ? Tis everclear the tears
Bedevilled her brew his crimson's crew ? Gnawing, at your brain; with broken fangs.
Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013
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