Shoot Me
Filter all of which you will instill so I can sit still again
Sift through my sheltered skin cells my gracious friend
Cannot attend the ceremony of what is to come
Sitting in the corner of what you've become
Illustrated with incorrect grammar for me to read
Philanthropy brings him what he needs to finally breed
Crashing into what this person sees as his reality
Heaving so my lungs fill with this horrid presence
Taste what I thought was juices of a wounded one
Blistering light bring me what had been my mortality
Excerpts seem familiar but the mind creams again
Forget what had been happened to what I will lend
Upon a burning spear the flesh drips so I can see
What is to be is nothing but another reason to be free
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