I shall wake
Here I sit holding rare flowers dressed in a cloak
filled with the smell of change,confiding that I only wore a sleeveless tatter
as I sit inside a stare greater then the passion for pain riveting in cliches of shadows stretched along my tones of a broken guitar I rested
as I bellow in a voice of apathy in the difference of indifference charading in paths of pathetic volume beautifully crying that if I die alone shall i wake before my eulogy shanked the pose of forgiven taste I lisp
once a time in three shears of a smile .
as I sit high on a ponder of killing a chance that yonder should awake
before I arrive as if I sold my flesh to only skin my beautiful peel I stood for
,in a haven dug deep into a touch of wicked builds
spinning off into sound where my guitar gave reason the abuse a slander in sacrifice inside a day in time on my hands for I bleed here holding rare flowers blossomed to adorn my grave ,yet I alone shall wake.