My thoughts flow, slow from the canvas,

As if my soul's open an open window,

I dig deep because it's how I'm getting through this,

I can't hold it in, every sin that's in

me is exposed, juxtaposed with this mask

I wear and it shows that there is isn't much to know,

Especially when I hide it so well, I guess it's hard to tell,

That behind it, there's a featureless face, and it haunts me,

It's the embodiment of everything I've felt, and with every blow that's dealt

It grows bigger, yet it's hardly seen, only in my dreams,

I've tried to run from it, but I just fall

down to the ground, and I drown in the nothingness that's all around

me, and nobody seems to notice this dark thing that's keeping me on its leash,

And my voice is weak from the screaming,

But that's alright because nobody hears me anyway,

I wish I never had to write these confessionals down, but how else will I be heard,

I can't let these things be left unsaid, I can't bring them with me to the dirt,

And sometimes I wish I could wear all this hurt,

I wish I could wear it like a shirt, so that you won't have to search

for all these faults of which I am riddled,

And with these ******* skittles, I need to taste

that rainbow so at least something sweet

can be inside me again, so please would someone send

a ******* gift basket or something, so I'm not left

with all this nothing, I've been on my knees, but nothing's coming,

Jesus Christ, I'm tired of running and stumbling,

Can't we just have that something again?

I don't know what I need to do, to show you that we could be that perfect picture,

Like something Da Vinci  drew, our life could be framed and admired,

I just need a chance, and maybe someday we will dance to the same tune,

You know I can't sit here and rant, I need you,

So why can't we just start over, like it's something new,

Our lives don't need to be so blue, but maybe we shouldn't be stuck like this, like glue,

Please help me, because I know there's something left, let's wash this slate clean,

Please.

You ask how long I will stay

I ask how long till the end of days
Till love gives out on all it's made
I'll keep holding on into the late
That's how long I'm going  to stay

You ask how long till there's nothing left

I ask how long till my dying breath
Till every dot, dash, and words been said
I'll keep giving you all I have
That's how long till there's nothing left

You ask how long I'll keep holding on

I ask how long has this love grown
Till time stands still on the grey and old
I'll keep away the chill from the marrow bone
That's how long I'll keep holding on

Satanic anthems are bold, as they carry their message across undefined boundaries where infinity spreads her wanton features across the generations of history.
Boston reminds me of my historical roots, where Anglican tragedy submits her fornications in submissive rebellion.
With this in mind, let us use our fallible wills to travel together, across astral vistas where timeless plantations of hallucinogenic acceptance join hands around the mistress of the dark and her tantalising secretions.
Can we please communicate into the depths of the dawn in our debaucheries?
Feel the rhythm of unspeakable energies, as the pulse ripples through your eternal lusts.