While hate is a gift that I guess
I've been blessed by
It's nearly time to confess
To the night sky
My love for the dawn and my dread
Of the darkness
My envy for you that has led
To catharsis.
Within I grow cold and more desperate yet,
My hideous crimes for the moon I regret
I salvage what strength and resolve that I can,
What made me a demon now makes me a man;
I'm ready to burn my impurities out
There isn't a sliver or inkling of doubt
My love is like hate and my love is like shame
The hard to grasp truth is they're one and the same
Hate
© Copyright: Триумвират, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115093002898
Свидетельство о публикации №115093002898
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