• The purr of the mountain lion within my soul causes screams throughout the meadows of my life.
    Children scatter.The life of love is lost
    and times don't matter only the broken chips.
    it seems
    that life itself has ran away into the hollows of your soul
    and found a way to rip your heart apart
    yet
    it does not matter
    because it has no effect on your rotten tomato of a heart.
    It is no joke of which i speak
    of your heart and its disgusting
    smell, look, taste.
    I lay upon the roses
    and let the thorns peirce my back
    causing cries of pain
    as the red blood slowly creates an organic shape around y body
    and my sounds become slower and lighter
    and then they fade away
    into the deep hollows of your soul
    and the darkness stares at your shredded heart
    and I slowly die with the arms
    of hatred.