Cut through boneYou, who rode the arms of the flesh-eater death,Cut through bone by ~rowenabrennavart
Who stroke the hairs of slobbering beats that wandering at night are terror,
Just you can judge my sorrow.
Those of green grasses, summer smells and candy-painted flowers,
What do they know of the clawing of your own skin to escape, of plucking eyes that are your own, of wanting to run from a reality that devours it all?
What songs do their birds sing, while our black-feathered companions do nothing but laugh at our pathetic selves, shadows of beings trying to get out, out and away?
Ah, for a breeze to bring blue saltiness, Sun kissed, instead of hissing sulfur-rich mist!
Why do they stare at me in confusion, with their gay garlands and silly dresses, can't they see the blood dripping, painting their fancy floors with a darker shade of red? Have they been blinded by all the light? Why else would they beat a raw screaming body, pouring poison over bloody flesh, with a song in their lips?
Old friends of cold nights awake and pain bared alo