A Man Made Hollow

The gathering fragile tides of pride seeking shelter, I fear not what I see. The echoes among declining visions traumatized¬†me, pains stains must this be. Hearing the howling wolf's cries beneath the blue moon, singing this death tune. The bitter taste of the herbs you fed me, you denied me, when you deprived me. Your…Read more A Man Made Hollow

Which Will It Be

The fear of death docile fools guilty leading the unwilling pressing pleads of the hateful it's discreet yet still reviling Their dishonesty this disdainful demise roots of the tree compulsively combative over the things they refuse to see The falseness of their faithful famously callous before thee shall you not see when the dejected become…Read more Which Will It Be