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.