Anger climbs the trellis like a vine
Hate is the photosynthesis as I substitute ignorance for the sunshine
I am lying in your wake
Your eyes will never anticipate
Your morals, they will antiquate
The burning, fiery skies of the killing forest will never wait, for you
I always build, from the sweat of my body to a God's ear  
You will hear me, but not until I'm breathing in your ear
The cortisol spike will ignite my fervor
Your oxytocin, from a God's ear to a cold, sharp blade