My flock I present to the masses of wolves devouring eyes, hungry
mouths, relentless minds caught in the snare of society, ill, but yet
they circle the scavengers in complete harmony they advance marching
against, my flock they do not scatter against the beast of hearts,
dark sniggers in the midst of them they dwell
In the buxom of the ignorant heart they dwell, the merchants of morals they dwell amongst the accepted directionless, unknown hearts, the transparency of ideas preconceived acceptance governs the oneness in soul, voiceless yet they speak ever meaningful prophecies
The wounds of betrayal tormenting the soul of me, the blows struck
With no bruise or scar renders the animosity powerful within the heart
of me. Unyielding it rages forth, consuming, battle tattered ruins i
gaze into the surface of your soul s reflection once more I give
myself over to the beast in the center of my core