a wicked thought in some dark corner of the illustrious mind round and round it spins in the the background of all the sunshine days benith the surface of all the joyous times for all thouse years like a cancer of the soul like an apocalypse of the madness inside the sane mind i have walked to the edge of the abyss i have looked the beast in his dead eye felt his cold hand in my heart and i knew him iv seen this and know it holds nothing for me
she slips into the street a shadow that walks in the bright sunlight and prays as she walks for a happenstance of providence but even to mortals her lips are stained with a tiny traces of blood she is seen as a culprit she devolved into her separate parts and she never was right afterwards
like a small doll stuck on broken her every day her everything is a razor blade to you but she only hears a symphony of color she only sees a tragedy of tears all shes known was the rat race she aspires to nothing more
a wicked thought in the darkness and inspite of asking that it delay its maniacalΒ Β desires the illustrious mind bends in on itself just because nobody can see doesn't mean no-one knows what is the hidden thing of spirit and of mind
impossible nature of my being here in this awful place this dark harbor in shades of the unnatural misgivings the crazy ones pace the room in silent trek eyes nailed to floor each step slowed by hungers of fortune and the angst of regret the impossible nature of my being here is dictated by circumstance by the romance of mistaking happenstance for providence but i am making headway at escaping myself