Sometimes I'd like to say...
Just release me from this please.
Let me drift away like a leaf...
Into the rotten breeze.
You see, I grew these trees of rage.
And I'll eat the bitter fruit, if I need.
Yes, I can grow an orchard.
And my hate I can breed.
You see, it's like a disease.
How it spreads through my being.
I wander this world and wonder...
If you could be the one who would wash me clean.
My soul, it spills over with this toxic rain.
And it stains...
It stains me within.
My own deep, dark demons,
These lost but lovely dreams.
With me it leaves black marks of memory drawn across my face,
Like tattoos on the back of time that is a forgotten place.
Which was once me.