How does it feel,
when you polish silvers
On your abominable veins?
Can you see the stars,
or broken paradise?

How does it feel,
to feel joy upon pain
That you inflicted?
I can make you cry
As much as you hurt you

Come,
If you run out of pins
Or run out of fingers
I’ll break the metal wood
And sculpt the night endlessly
To fix smiles upon sorrows

Then comes hell,
When you nod over
The marching fire
Cracking little demons
That lavish inner devotion
For the broken and unhealed

High water,
Rises to drown you
Drenching you in exchange
For stakes to the heart
Built of gloom and your drowsy hair

Come hell or high water,
I’ll pursue you away
From your battles of fables
And vacant splendors
Perfumed by corruption,

Abandon abundance,
Abandon crooked vows
Abandon lusted graveyards
Abandon all hopes
Abandon promises you plead yourself

But come hell,
Or high water
Who am I?
Just a labeled hero
With broken limbs and faded eyes

As long as I still
Can walk with,
Or without you,
Then come hell
Or high water