I'm prepared to meet my foe,
Every object of terror surrounds me,
Trained to be savage,
By none other than you.
I feel, an impotent rage,
Rotting away,
I feel, an impotent rage.
Deep green,
An icebound stream,
I wait,
Veins split apart in unison,
A forest on fire.
I've got an insatiable thirst,
And perfectly unquenchable,
Perfectly unquenchable.
I feel, an impotent rage,
Rotting away,
I feel, an impotent rage.
I feel, an impotent rage,
Rotting away,
I feel, an impotent rage.
YOU ARE READING
Crackle
PoetryPossibly the darkest collection of songs that I've written, to date. Also, that's my own artwork on the cover. Published under my Wandering Faith moniker.
