Deep Wounds

Change my soul. 

Likes of twilight, to give hope to these demons

It's for a moment, the fear of Satan isn't the light and a mystery of death still remains a pattern in neither light nor dark. 

Losing my soul to the bites of my on will, the price is the fear I brought upon myself, now! Faith wilts like its vines no longer reach my soul for adaptation 

Thorns on a red rose, my hands wrapped around it in wait of a blossom, 

HOPE! 

Silent whispers, "hell. Hell. Hell.." 

Drools of blood covering a perimeter of my step, with the reflection of whom I've become, likes of change is inevitable. 

Flying petals, a sign of my lost soul, dispatching from my life and my two hands regret not. 

The path whispered joy, my ears could hear smiles 

I'm sorry

I want to be happy.