They have written tales about madness, about men
Lost in love giving up numbered breaths for the one
That brings them peace. They composed music, and
Wrote poetry, stench of an old malt and recently
Consumed cigarettes. Some have even lost their souls
In seedy brothels with an overdose of chillum, while some
Thrive on memories and creatively crested histories. I have
Seen it all. read it through and felt it turn me black. But for
You, I shall write blood stained libretti, blood darker than
Yours, for it will be mine.
Thicker than blood, colored with violence, rage and fury
Enveloped like lovers; a diaspora of your destruction.
You have blood stained thighs, I imagine them, rubbing
Mine.
Lost in love giving up numbered breaths for the one
That brings them peace. They composed music, and
Wrote poetry, stench of an old malt and recently
Consumed cigarettes. Some have even lost their souls
In seedy brothels with an overdose of chillum, while some
Thrive on memories and creatively crested histories. I have
Seen it all. read it through and felt it turn me black. But for
You, I shall write blood stained libretti, blood darker than
Yours, for it will be mine.
Thicker than blood, colored with violence, rage and fury
Enveloped like lovers; a diaspora of your destruction.
You have blood stained thighs, I imagine them, rubbing
Mine.
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