I smell blood
On the air...
So much time has passed
Forgive...
With the relapse of a memory,
And a meaning defining it...
Your tongue is a viper's friend
Caught in the noose of sharp teeth...
She always heard the train pass
at a quarter to twelve on Sunday nights...
Darkness or Death
Which do I prefer...
I smell the filth rising out of the sun
this intrepid taunt that lures me to endless rage...
This manifestation in my heads revelation
it ended in massacre...
Light descends pushing us back
reflections off rain, my body a strain...
Who are you trying to fool?
There's a man at the old oak tree...
While I was wading through the contradictions
I chanced upon my friends making predictions...
Hatred makes me aroused,
Thrives on darkness and pain...