My arrow drives deeply into his neck and knees by halves
I draw the arrow out drowning him in his own blood
Shifting my aim across the bow
I curve out my knife, look at the wound
clutch it like it's me who's dying
That's the day I stopped believing in hopeless life
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 7:56 PM UTC
My arrow drives deeply into his neck and knees by halves
I draw the arrow out drowning him in his own blood
Shifting my aim across the bow
I curve out my knife, look at the wound
clutch it like it's me who's dying
That's the day I stopped believing in hopeless life