I dare not
look at god's scintillating
scorcher of an eye
only the bold would walk forward into hell
concrete callings
beckon to the place where
at least the prince knows
the blood is on your hands
fire take me now
no one could teach me to
see the devil for what he is
smoke wheels manifest from the
fog oozing from the
forsaken ground of
crying corpses
I am lost, I am lost
in the month of hollow hearts
if I close my eyes
I see the shard of heaven in your chest
don't dare look away
I have always killed for you
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
I dare not
look at god's scintillating
scorcher of an eye
only the bold would walk forward into hell
concrete callings
beckon to the place where
at least the prince knows
the blood is on your hands
fire take me now
no one could teach me to
see the devil for what he is
smoke wheels manifest from the
fog oozing from the
forsaken ground of
crying corpses
I am lost, I am lost
in the month of hollow hearts
if I close my eyes
I see the shard of heaven in your chest
don't dare look away
I have always killed for you
hmmm... an amalgamation of my loneliness, fascination of characterizing love as a holy evil, and death
