Living red writing drips like the tears of my wounds. as the room rotates rapidly silence suffocates my spinning tomb.
Hopelessly i cling at straws only finding pencils as I drown in this page.
my ice cold corpse cracks as my eyes fill with feint flames, and a ghoulish grin masks a grim gaze, as I set my sights on deaths empty eyes I issued a defiant challenge, daring him to try take this tormented teen.
Did he flinch! Or was it a fallacy, formed from My own measure of madness?
Normally I would give some sort of explination, but this one I'll purposely leave up to you