Molly Awake
I, but lies prompt curious ruminations.
How so, that light can void the flames existence
And hold a mind to ransom.
Syn set a chill scythe here.
And dearest dead, I cannot claw you from your grave
With my desperate heart and wanting.
My hope might resurrect me, but not your fabrication,
And time would waste hoping.
Chimera will be loved more than you and your perfidious tongue
You cannot save us now.
We are done
We are done.
