Infatuation of the idealation,
I can still smell that sweet scent.
The silver taste so fresh,
As if the metal lay tightly between my teeth.
The salty taste of sweat,
Droplets falling burning my eyes,
And I love it.
I feel the blood run across my skin,
I smell the perfume of it's existence.
And I love it.
It's getting closer...
Tick, Tick, Tock, goes the clock,
And the days fall to the ground,
Bringing me down..
Far from that place I called Heaven.
And I prepare myself to die again.
And wonder does it ever end.
... and it's raining...
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