Millenarian clothes burned into fire and embers
Though sophisticated and modern, nobody remembers
A recollection of fingerprints is looked back on, when only are nice memoirs
And to blaze them to a crisp, there must’ve been a dark tremor.
Untruths oozed through them like blood from your cut tongue
Slimy and slick, preying sickly after the young
Unfurled like venom turned cancer, spreading across the lungs
Leaving in white noise, hidden from their state of dazedly drunk.
Because the creature’s just no longer angel, does it ever retire?
From sipping through whispers his secretly warped desires?
Do you have what it takes, do you have what it requires?
To give up your wicked, distorted stories, putting them through such trials?
Though can’t save the world, I hope to be your last prey
It was never about self-identity, not about what’d be said by they
Those who held my hand, only to once again lose my way
To be nice and submissive, playing a game of predator and prey.
Indeed, a shame, that my ears were sweetened but left with condemnation
Abandoned with indefensible guilt, when just looking for salvation
For this wrecking frustration and impossible restoration
Seeking to save the unsolvable, and getting mixed confusedly with temptation.
Deceivers get what they give, sooner or later yours is flooding
The wires holding together your jaws will begin numbing
You’ll huff and puff, big wolf, yet not forever you can keep jumping
The worst monster live in the conscience, you can tell, you’ve seen yours coming.