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Starving eyes of addiction
You know there is no such faith in our burning sphe
re
Inquest rains and unforgotten winds
The art of hiding behind your crowd is the reverse
of pain.
A wreckage of deceptions
A blend of coldness with reality
Get it on it’s another way of saying:
“I wear a crown of twisted words and nonsense”
Bring it on - you are another redundant case
Of a coward with his crowd ‘of essence’
As time goes by from the outside,
It would have been altering perceptions
Is it a light of coldness with reality?
Or is it a hideout of deceptions?

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