Through Self-Mutilation

The self-mutilation

Necrosis of the soul

Dark is the shadows of life

Hot as Hell

You take the matters into your own hands

From now on it's downhill

A single candle burns -

In the vast consuming darkness

Uplifting like a funeral

Through these years you were created

In the void between life and death

A shimmering blade shreds through his flesh

At the peak of his night - time bliss

Misanthropes, kings and queens

And a painful vision of Hell

It burns

The blisters on your hands

So nebulous, dark as December

You should be dead by now

Lost in time and space

But you push the limits further

You hate the human race