Like a Mouth To a Flame
What makes you feel.
Not to want to fake real.
Do you see the tears on
the outside of the
mirror .
Your eyes hide for you
to blind the cries.
The flames which burn
the moth to the blame.
The candle which
receives not a trick to
the wick.
That is why I poison my
veins.
That is why I want to
die.
The reason I carry my
pain.
The season in which
hell will fall.
Destruction will be the
quake for turmoil to
bleed.
The pack can not be
protected.
Black hate inside my
mind has been planted.
Dark is the seed who
will need to feed.
On demon flesh.
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