• thestoned_divine 6w

    We're all alone, we're all bastard sons
    Been cast aside from the world above.
    We practice dark arts and open casket love
    We bathe in the warmth of a plastic sun
    And when we pray we feel one way love
    I know it's so tough when you look but can't touch so
    Please take a hit let it flow like you been through defeat

    Every hour is a season
    Every minute lasts a day
    So I sit here picking stitches
    I find comfort in decay
    How I long to fill my lungs
    With all the voices in my soul
    There's no poetry in my soul
    Just a list of lies I have told
    By wings were clipped by demons if they were
    I have got no guts to fly over the earth
    ©thestoned_divine