It was collected under the curtains of my thoughts,
But I listened to the rustling of what was beneath.
The rawness that is buried lingering submerged.

I heard the eroding methods of their words scrapping
within myself. "Listen, listen, its beneath the sinews of
what's floating upon the shores of there lies.

I sculpture on the deceit buried in profound veins,
There screaming in lullabies of a yearning to
sulk with rough tears falling in torment.