Godfall set up apart but I wasn't afraid of it. The trials we both went together were harder then vows we took to promise each other, although it was only a false cause.
It seems our souls were ripped apart once more, but not by my own deeds. It was your actions. The bullet cases now in the persons chest you killed that would of tooken us for victory, but you judged them by their past then their present's feet of wonders.
Now you climb in the echo of hell, crying for mercy. I didn't wish you were their, but you did fail. I can feel your flesh peeling apart in my own skin, and your sharp words in my own mind of home. Your still alive.
It seems your journey has ended, your fingers now fell from the tree and you fell back on the ground. The desires of your rope was now gone, as my own sword from hell cut the strings.
Dig deep down but not too far. That someone will lead you to a place they think they call home, but I'd rather not think they're garden of happiness is my happiness too. What happened to the thorns on your flowers?