Traces Of ScreamThird eye’s blind neglected weeds I plant the seeds and now they’re overgrown. Prepare the lies collect the sighs perception’s myth and now they’re all alone.
Come lean in close to my good eye, are you real or just dream. Wind, glinted steel on capped teeth dear, faint traces of scream
A wretched soul who lost control boundaries, they’re fading eerily. Victim of circumstance, a funny dance, lopsided prophecy.
An Autoclave, a sunny grave, an empty stage, suspended abstraction. The total truth divide into mathematical deluded fractions.