Twisted Sorrow

Together the silence wakes,
in a frozen photograph of lies.

Its like a prayer to the messiah
A judgment seen in the sinners eyes.

Counting down the stems,
that make up every life.
You'll never reach the end
if you keep grasping the knife.

The blood, the cuts, the scars the ruts.
These feelings disappear, once your souls been broken
It can never be repaired.

It swollow's you whole and tortures your soul
You drown in your sorrow a twisted control.

The feeling of hate the feeling of death,
A break in the stitches with you very last breath.