Xiion

The end of all things, you swore you'd be my savior; but when it came down to the ring; all i had left was a razor; The pain, in my own mind, was gone, but the hurt was still felt; I have waited for you, humming our own song, but you never knew the damage that was dealt; The cravings made me fiend for you even more, the blood and sorrow, i bleed this feeling; but now i have you, in my arms, walking the shore; the agony is back, on my knees now i'm kneeling...

Covered up lies, a book of mystery, sitting on my desk, these eyes will never see. to see the truth, and never get hurt, is a burden on its own, covered in dirt. does this pain not harm you? it only seems surreal, this thing we call reality, i can't even begin to look again. as his depression sets in, a life now waisted and gone, he digs his grave, and sings one last song. his wife had left him, took the kids and the car, no money, no house, no family, nor spouse. the sixth foot has been reached, squared off ends and equal proportions, he takes a gun to the head, not knowing it wasnt the end. the chamber fills up, bul