I tried to tell you of life, but those I spoke to where those lurking in the corners of the cellar bar...
I tried to reach out my shivering hand, but I thought not of the greetings, I thought of the grip itself...
I tried to read the heretic words, but those I read were the faces to whom I as my letters seem to mean the world...
I tried to look for a fight, yet what remained were clenched fist and shadows of freign words that made my day...
Like a suitor with too much to spend, bled white by a whore, going by the name of perception. It was hers, the disease, the gift I now carry, it is bitemarks I bear.
I ventured, I lit out the darkest caves of my mind, and I bear this knowledge in chains...
And if this godforsaken planet falls, I would stand observing, Waiting, pondering, frozen...