Rogue Torque

I am a masquerade
Stand accused on a full moon
Through shape and form  
Something diabolical  
 
A sense of ill  
My ears tickle in turn
Teeth sharpen and puncture
 
I am your eyes
The wall with no door
An honesty you deny even still
 
The light now shun
I feel no better tucking tail
A putrid smell that betrays all intent
Ghoulish wherever I roam
 
A sense of ill  
My ears tickle in turn
Teeth sharpen and puncture
 
I am your eyes
The wall with no door
An honesty you deny even still  
 
Oh it’s bending me
Feral thoughts bubbling up
A sweet rapture again
No, yes, always