They say words can be like knives...
Then is my pain the chorus to your sick poem
Is it that it was too easy?
Too perfect?
Too right?
Or was I mistaken?
You say...you care but just perpetuate my darkness..
My soul cries out
It screams into the void
It cries for YOU
but there is no reply..
Wouldnt it have been easier to murder me in cold blood that murder me everyday?..
