A heart so callused as not to feel
Scars too deep for wounds to heal
A soul of kindred spirit seeks
The one, the same, however meek
And so a rip in flesh began
And blood, down tattered souls, it ran
For one to feast on demons grown
Gnawing, both through flesh and bone
Crashing casings over pain
The scars are what the feast remains
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
A heart so callused as not to feel
Scars too deep for wounds to heal
A soul of kindred spirit seeks
The one, the same, however meek
And so a rip in flesh began
And blood, down tattered souls, it ran
For one to feast on demons grown
Gnawing, both through flesh and bone
Crashing casings over pain
The scars are what the feast remains
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