Heavenwards, besotted eyes caught. A shiver of dread catching a steel inforced spine. Brought humble, ink stained well intentioned fingertips. An ancient struggle for more than a lackluster song.

Escape
Bleed
And Surrender

When the voices get to high, a church bell ringing upon a rotted mind. Cerebral disease shattered and frayed the delicate incisors and my tongues quick bite.

Caustic creations of unknown entreaties and abstract form of self expression, the eyes are weary and falling. Unaware of the scampering flow of thoughts.

Im alone.

And you can always tell, despite my pleasant discourse. I find myself weary and in need of something opium laced, its a shame my tongue is laden with to many thoughts unsaid for theres times when i can feel myself slipping and begging to show/tell/listen to you.

Unintelligable, ive a feeling this shall become. Ive centered my thoughts only, on the slip of my hand.

Wide eyed only breifly as i study the ink tirade.

Heed the needless points, they often mean the most. Only the Masters of nothing, are listening, with heavy ears. For a hint of how to be better and not stutter when they reach for
greatness.

When i stand upon this throne, a thistle crown upon my brow. Judaic effigy with lips painted red.

Im done.