I've listened to your bickering
On how anti-social I've become.
And I sat there, wondering,
If I'd ever miss my home.
Have you ever known
How much you've lied to me?
I guess you wouldn't care,
Since that's all your life is built on.
Only to flush the pain away,
I drew my trusty sword.
Oh, the irony, that it was meant to protect.
What's there to protect, but my idle soul?
I don't need any consolence,
I know just what to do.
To run that beautiful steel along the vein
And hope that death is slow.
I want those few last minutes
Free to think about you.
All the stunts you pulled,
And the things you never knew.
I haven't spoke my thoughts,
And I knew I never could.
So I let my self finally go,
And let your life go on as it should.
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Submission Name: Where The Crimson Ends
