Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913. Made his. Great grandchildren believe. He could live to a 103. A hundred and three is forever. When you're just a little kid.
Another kiss goodbye, another sorrowed eye,. Another victim of the game, do what you can to make it seem alright.. Kiss my ass, don't look back, you are lost, you are last, you are living a lie..
No it should have not been you. I never meant the things I said. Nothing of it ever true. Whoever writes it and whoever makes the future happen. Would've gone in your place but it happened to you.
Take my eyes. Compare your own damnation. You are the same. A fallen soul. . Breaking the soul, my words are worthless. Fading through time, my confidence deceased.
Waking in floods of sweat. Vision returning. My hearts in overdrive. . I sink so low that hell is heaven. The high is gone, I must escape this. Inner loathing, that is my captor.
On winds of death. Hate filled and unforgiving. No life is spared. In death we are all equal. . As cities fall. Monarchs and clergy with them. Judgment has risen.
Leeching on life's crying vein. Sucking out the passion and the dream. This is the hour of need. . Allies and foes unite or dark princes will prevail.
Foul blanket settles, brings devastation. Hate in our hearts, blood on our hands. This fractured peace, raw bones defending. Black hearted war is never ending.
Scarred, emotion infiltrates my soul. Suffer, the hierarchy takes control. Insane, no matter where you run, you die. Breaking the chain. . In your eyes I see a void.