Well of wrists

trapped in an ever building reach
for a hand i will never hold
our finger touch .......
but you always seem too far away
let time burn down to ash
so we can feed on the hours.....
spilt blood and tears
rained down upon the silver draips of dispair...
black posies climb the walls
that have fallen so graceously at your feet
unrest .... unending slaughter
our blood clearly marks the way
blood trails and drag marks...
theres no more sun upon your face
golden hearts conceal the darkest omens
and pulse through rotten viens
to spill from broken skin
the well of wrists has run empty
crows have come to pierce our eyes
buried to our necks in the burning sand
sun upon our faces
the subtlety begins to build
look out the window ....
out the window ...