Why do you choose to sit there alone,
Holding the scissors, the knife, the razor blade...
You don't want me to go..
But it's best if I do...
They always say
that the eyes of some one...
If only I had no demons to face,
I would face yours alongside you...
Roses are red,
Violets are blue...
I look into the mirror I dont recognize the person...
Shes cold, angry and has seen worse than I could...
I remember the beginning;
When we were happy...
I stand on the edge of a knife
Looking down the blade...
You don't want to keep going on like this.
But maybe you're looking for change in the wrong...
Is this what is on offer?
To be with you...
Lioness, frail under the sun
Tortured by the darkness of their souls...
The sound of silence
Blindly deafening...