with culted bane I speak profaneobscure morose, masturbating my insanitydilligently scribing my death daystime spent in the company of demonstalking to the world through a fogno one to tell, no one believes meon specters and ghostsfaulty little imperfection I...

Midsummer season on my wintry lips, these modern symptoms from antiquated sorrows.   The sunlight of acceptance, and midnight of isolation.   Youthful blushes and the wrinkles of experience, I have the free will to question my fate.   This wealth of imagination, and the poverty of my reality.   The...

There is a crack in my mind and everything flows into it. My head floods with such intensity, I drown in my own little world.   I look through my eyes, nothing is what it seems. Blinded I am from the truth. Lost... oh, so lost! Where...

tis a bloody moon I seelicking its lips, the darkness tasting memy soul to weep unknownno one knows my tortured heartwith vacant stares they watchmy flesh to cry out to no availhell doesn't desire the guiltymy purified soul will...