• Unraveling despair each time whence opened sun
    Clinging to the false pretenses of a book born rain
    The only fallow martyr is a child's imagination
    Concoct the death machine, and take away
    Strip the second sight from answering false cries
    Perhaps I should have wished upon a star amidst the skies
    Pragmatic constipation yearning for someone
    Metaphorical is a God, save for the bombing pain
    Cannot whisk away disaster, devoted in deprivation
    Culminated in coalescing sanity pillaged play
    Halfway home, shallow grave where the future lies
    Perhaps I Could have Dreamed of a world within your eyes