Book of Skin

This wallpaper is dying never having seen the sun light crucifies all dark This life has stained my ears stolen my sight from seeing I am a house without a heart Beyond all sins Dark red rivers I swim for sanity is knocking at my door From these pores, I seek A truth that now has spoken Etched in the gallop of stolen time In the garden of discontent The lilies have withered stigma of scent Falls upon me You are a book of skin You are a book of history Sometimes I thought I could read you When I skipped a page etched too deeply In the echo of your memory I spoke , once too often I spoke, once too late My vagabond dream still floats And only to you... Now crush me kindly Vandalize my aching spirit I am a book of skin I am a book of history Now read me not No more...