Guilt Free

Sharp pain from dark's letters Cold days from bodies whether Where silent haze will not show her This face that covers What tartar bitters? With the knife of a blade Strikes through cranium's waves Protrudes through the musculus fiber ways Where the vines pound at the same There, on the temple it breaches to stay Pound above, all again Attacks at the vest Rapids at best Tightens on set In a Minor chest Hear that red pumping yet? By the hard tips; pink Brush the skin weak Where the flake spills to force a wink Darkens the mark that cleared the weeks Ready to bleed, wash by the sink Seeking the night To lose a fight Destroys that only light Fade back and dream again To the emotion that is no pretend Manipulated by a causing trend See it yet fall, all till ten By the numb of a limb Ask The end