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Become the sin now (I will take you down). Angel - falling,
found (I will take you down). Morning of waning sympathy
commencing, as flowers wither on the mouth of blame. The
rusty shape beneath me witters empty. Impostor - your
blatant scams amuse me. Blood flows fiery, staining this
illusion. I am the haven; crafting perfect innocence. This
tired mercy falters finally. Imposing pain enables me to see.
Slither to feed the searing rift within me. Repent - interned
inside a frame of cries. Blood flows fiery, staining this
illusion. I am the haven; crafting perfect innocence. You
may envision the means of salvation, but you will never
befit the hallowed one. Your world - your prison; ceding in
quiet ruin. Its benediction always remained your own.

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