Steven Falls

Steven Falls    
No God to thank  
Sick and afraid    
Takes his blood with a cool, sharp blade    
    
Cheap hotel walls    
Cross country he drank    
Lonely and strange    
Hating the red scarlet lush that cultivates the change    
   
Twisted thrall    
Memory blank    
From scouring desert    
He was a mummified worm that writhed into the present    
   
Cold concrete floors    
To riversides dank    
The deed was done    
The guilty murder of life for his half one    
   
Haunted victims call    
Degeneration rank    
Forty two dead    
Weak, thin and lifeless, the desert is calling his head    
   
Renouncing it all    
Broken and lank    
To the desert he returns    
The sun blasted dry basin, his inhuman skin burns    
   
Another demon crawls    
Burnt head, wasted flank    
They battle each other    
The inner drop of shining blood to be the true brother    
   
Steven Falls    
New blood to thank    
Black sky he moves beneath    
Strong and so thirsty, now saliva drips over cruel pointed teeth