why is the real
so surreal
when caught in its grasp
we're forced to feel

insignifigant
spin the wheel
destiny fails
while fate is real

caught in between
and lost unseen
even in death
carrion will intervene

tear your soul
to hear you scream

and scream

and scream

torn and tossed
into a gleam

blade cuts deep
and will is strong
blood runs thick
as we carry on

taint my lips
with crimpson song

grinding hips

kissing lips

chesire smiles
so softly
to disguise it

sweaty palms
=
innocence

fell for one
she's in his grasp
and unknown to her
she slips

tumbles




and







falls

.again.

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