Angelcide
Six Feet From Serenity
Here I lie, so cold For the world, its needles have run dry Drained of the poisons of life, I lie numb in a pool of blood To forsake a meaningless existance Unhollwed are ways I shed this flesh Cursed to misanthropy and such masoquist ways I escape the grasp of a long dead god To a plane, one not absent of euphoric existance So grotesque it seems, yet feels so beautiful To the weak and the naked eye But her darkened caress, it sooths my soul A soul soon serene in death
From Letras Mania