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
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