The spurted of philosopher says that how can the slur of world voyage you
your frailty is like a volcano of glass being the air of helical anguish
Gasp for air shall we bend within the pleasure of cruelty
How do we earn to bid our farewell but yet being the filter of your conjecture on the vicinity of vitality and turmoil
I wonder even the red-eye human would be apprehensive of the maleficent glare of death
Seizing the opportunity of demons castle
Seeking slow-motion steps
The fleurs of passion being the horizon
U haven't seen the devil
But we had a perfect conversation
The corridor that spills the blood of Christ in cloud
I think it might be funny how all ends just became blurry tangibility of poison being the disputed of individuality
Never thought the euro of your nerves spatter preoccupation bumper
Shrieks vases through the halls of dark ally
Prays of starvation being the allowance predator like us
Late night
Sleeping as u pass by
What was your justification
Of darkest secret being exposed as the lie of ashes
Death body hitters in the ground with the sound of weapon slowly cutting thru every layer of the skin
From the dermis to sinking the flawed teeth into the direction of epidermal
Factors of authority search
The siren flow in the globe of night
Sky of thunder rose at the Daugherty lands
Spooky as your blood boils
Dawn as it hunts
Lingering, bottled-up anger never reveals the 'true colors' of an individual.
It, on the contrary, becomes all mixed up, rotten, confused, forms a highly combustible, chemical compound then explodes as something foreign, something very different than one's natural self.
I shut myself off to make life bearable.
I'm like a damn machine sometimes. Unfeeling. Uncaring. Emotionless
How pathetic is this when bounds of voices were loud
All I could do was hide under my skin
And wait for the ease of pureness to hit me
To be good again
When the last I can do is be calm
The empathy of hard believes
Being warded by the scums of troll
My voices will be listen
And it will never go out of stray