On the peripheral
Empty sea
Even though
One sob in seven shouts
The beat of red is rather rough
From high with broken edges
The thorns that pierce into her scorn
She is sending shots of black hateful earth to shattering ears
The lamps of her eyes have gone dim
Even though it is clear
Darkshore crashing and vibrating into the hours
A lot of hurt like disaster
To soothe her,
I want to nurse her secret
that sinks into mud
Outside of the pain
on the hood erupting
There is no happiness
coopyrighted 2009
