Linking of minds.Searching for nothing, It isn't there to see, Choked by pressure, 'It's easy to be me.' Cursed is my soul, As I try to dance, There is a hole, Where I didn't take a chance.Linking of minds.
Where exactly am I? Where should I be? This plain of existance, Isn't meant for me. I should be dancing, And I should be free, For they are waiting for me.
They fly so easily, To the one they cannot reach. It is I, that begins to preach, Preach of the night, And preach of the dark, Also of that hell born mark.
I should be with y
Death of the year.The Reaper of the trees rips over my dreams Scything the leaves with multiple gleams A Mexican wave of annihilation A torturous gust of exfoliation On an air Bourne decent of bloodstreamsDeath of the year.
The fire of the leaves consumes Consumes all the life That we were to presume Existed before his knife Knife and life
Life and knife Existed before his knife
Walking through the fallen debris The sun blinds until the night hates me Crunchy, crispy, fallen leaves Pull at my feet, as the blade gleams Once again he rides on the breeze
Twis
Faery x
o0ps.
Miniature madness
peers through its delusional
vision of existence
and carresses
the rush of flame
as it strikes another
from the guest list
--
we accept the love we think we deserve
--
¿Why do you love me?
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