The aspiration was to overturn the hurt they collected upon my pain, every time was like an original painting.
Blended with anticipation of seeing the last words grieving their deeds. But all actions speak more than any words. I'm depleting from their exhausted pleading, everything is a moment of our dead reflections.
Cleaving the carcass of another addition, under the skies will they be food for thoughts of others to feed upon. A new slave to the elements, they will decay.
Don't they realize I'm doing a service? ensuring the blade is fed, steel needs warmth every time its buried its feels there life elope, p*enetrating deeper than a soul weeping.