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Resultatet från att ha suttit uppe en natt och kollat på David Firth-animationer, vilket gav mig någon form av inspiration till detta.


untitled

Do you like my blood on your face? Can you savour the taste? My heart's out of place, it was a useless disgrace, anyway.

And the scars on my back from your traitful attack seemed to heal up so nicely until you took it back.

I'll stay locked in this trap 'til my mind it will snap and I'll keep digging down 'til my thoughts aren't around.

Now my spine's out of place, I'm a smiling disgrace. Don't look so surprised it's a common mistake.

And my bones getting brittle and I see you got your kittle so lets boil my flesh off them, little by little.


This aren't the ramblings of a madman disguise. This is the boy that you born and raised. Words may decieve until lies you believe.

Are you thinking about things that someone did wrong? I'll make it easy it was you all along. Your rituals of passing made me weaker not strong.

Can you make the link or are you too stupid to think. Your brain became rotten, so wretched and of death you stink. Your name will be forgotten when you die by the drink.

Now can you feel your skin being peeled? Your cries are so soothing and screams they relieve.


Your lies don't decieve, my mind I believe.




Bunden vers (Rim) av isgrim
Läst 176 gånger och applåderad av 1 personer
Publicerad 2013-12-02 19:14



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