Treat yourself to a wonderful world of inctances
where eyes open to rifts and silver clouds.
Please take me back, back when time was love and paridise.
Where I never shall sing the soul-less song of a puppet.
Once again the days become tommorrows and yesterdays.
And time stops to go back and check over their work.
As if they missed on something.
Maybe it's me.
Maybe I was cheated and from the sleeve drawn a spare ace.
Bitterness as heated as a passion grows, an inferno of incredible misguided threats.
Tossed about, and cut apart for a soul's sick love and desire.
Where am I now?
Created by a divine, subjected to a world suffering Where life is fake and threats empty and alone.
Crafted by light and stolen by shadows-
Can you hear it?
Can you hear their sweet kyries as they bellow in the rafters, blind of humanity and covered in blood?
Willing themself into sleep from birth and birth from sleep in cold hot chambers.
Alas, sweet lies admist us shall be our downfall, until the god strikes true to them.