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At times my empty and tangled eyes betray |
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To believe this I need more than mere faith |
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In this cold and desolate ward of mind |
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Intoxicated truth I bear inside |
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At times this shattered being is lost |
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For it all is gone I've sharpened the blade in my dreams |
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In alteration I have broken old entities |
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In a kind of mental subtraction |
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Everything fades and everything dies for a while |
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Come my fierce and lonely grave |
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Enter my bleeding dreams |
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Come and be where it all ends |
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Everytime when I surge inside |
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The bleaker desire, more painful demise |
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For aeons I've worn black spirit disguise |
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For all things to come I shiver inside |
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To taint the world with blood at times |
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This shattered being is lost |
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This endeavour is not worth all esteem |
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As a birthmark I'm stained with number 13 |
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For a desolate mind can't be divine |
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All illusions can't last more than for a while |
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Carved is a number into my skin imprisoned in all these cages |
