grim
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We thought you'd do your part from the very start
and provide for us like a small marketer running his cart.
But no. You couldn't handle the prod, the pinch, the feuding.
It haunt's me every night That Immature primal urge Ruined my night and for some time, My sight Unbeknown to all This broke down my sanity wall. Now different as a whole , a poorly lit soul
Heart pounding, face flushed
a crushing headache bum-rushed
Breath ragged, star-crush
the holy theme of hush hush
When darkness takes over,
Our nightmares come to life.
Who's time will end next?
A mere roll of the dice.
Fate is a religion for those who hate chance.
But be it random or precise,
