Deep wounds on my back, I'm a gallery of scars. Take a gander feast your eyes, a tarnished heart is my signature.

Vistiges of my soul dangling on toothpicks, dinner well relished by friends foes glimmer with empathy. Malice pleased, who is my enemy?

The excrement of animals drowning in the sewers, is that the existence the best of self I can only persue huh?

A warrior's last breath asking for help. Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand,
Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand?