All The Blood Dancing On My Grave.
Bathing The Roses To A Misery Faultered Love Inslave.
Smelling Of Alluring Sacrafice Akin Of My Burial Gown Of Deciet.
Whilst Your Morbid Self-Destruction You May Only Plead To Keep.
Yet Uncaged From Your Loathing Self.
Sibilant And Forlorn.
Your Were My Light.
Scorned And Abhorred.
For There Is Something In Your Way.
You Have Only Reposed And Sold Your Souls.
Your Make Everyone Hate.
You Make Everyone Pay.
Trapped Within Your Raped Bitter Illness Of Malarial Dismay.