A fatal release...
Burning through desire like the fire I lost.
She'll let me fly there,
Where trees burn away like a moth
In the flame.
Where the flowers smell of rot,
And death departed.
I'll fly there
With broken wings and heart...
Having not the heart
To let myself fall.
Having not the heart
To slip into dark waters
And let myself become
One of the death encased flowers.
She'll let me fly there,
In hopes that I'll fall.
Dark angel of destruction...
Perfections lonely call.
