Innocence withers with every breath. But the stench of rot remains. Tomorrow caked in ashes. And time withers like the flame. Our future is the rust on the carcass of earth and our birth is a mystery. The spawn of famine is cloaked in black and exhales right next to me. I laugh at the fool who delves into the abyss of eternity, but the spawn of suffering, the epitome of hate, beats your heart to a pulp of misanthropy. Frustration dissects me. Death will swallow me whole and I will lubricate..
Гуру Песен