Cold and brittle, the first to fall. Cut too deep and left to bleed. The strain of self to yield the cleanse. Hollowed out and led to the edge. Throw it upon me. Recline and observe. Watch it infect, pulling at my being. Reflection is lost as I craft a gaze. There’s no one alive. The skies will darken and fill up in ash. The light will fade, giving birth to the dark. Our shadows will drift beneath all we are. Existence chokes out all life. What’s left of our sins? The strain of self to yield the cleanse. Hollowed out and led to the edge.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
