Still raw from the drums
The purging of sound
You are an ulcered kleptomaniac
you can't fight such thrill-
The thrill of consuming
Theft
Thieving metaphorical hearts
Your words are howls
You're a dog burying it's bone without a care as to who it belongs
You steal and you destroy
And you leave the poor ashes as a final knife-
The fatal blow to their chests

(C) Tiffanie Doro