Little broken home has lost me, small passions creeping over dusted skin like gritted teeth in a monsters maw.
I lost you long ago and finding you was never an option and hell I know you don't even want me back, but baby situations have changed and certain desires need me and you to be together.
I felt a connection to you once, long ago in a passed lifetime and with hopes I can build it up again to make this work. Are you willing to try? Are you willing to be mine? Are you willing to find out if we can be united in a bond made for love but based on lethal bitterness?
I can't promise kindness, but I'll promise to be fair, I won't make you bleed for another man's crime. Don't think you are better off dead, when it's my hand you are playing against, I am evil and you hate me, but face the devil to change it.
All hope is long lost, and bitter birds have left an empty nest with foul eggs and a golden promise to raise hell upon your face. I tell you, you are lost and not better off dead, but better off rotten in the ground with the skeletons ***** minds monsters.
It's not force, but still not a choice, just really bad opinions, and don't try to find out the glorious tragic pain in your heart that will be revealed at a refuse of this demand.
Don't know what made me write this. A surpressed inner crisis I guess...