Inner Demons
By Healium Shriekspear

Singelic, This angel from below
Behold the beauty she unfolds
Full of sin, Cursed with love
Her dead soul full of torn envy


Her heart full of emptiness
In droughts of dried hope
Crossing along the trials of witchery
Death her only inspiration

A product of an ignorant society
Slaves around her produce no hope
She falls into the arms of her own rationality
Only to find nothing to hold

A ghost in the whist of her own temptation
Like dust eating through distant time
Crept into a blackened abyss of lilac murder
Realizing she is only one of her kind

No one expected her to do what she did
Yet, Who ever gave her the day or time?
To get to know this beautiful soul
Now she has no other choice
She now fallows the reapers design

Ode to the hopeless
Whom has no dreams ahead
Join her to celebrate the rise of the dead
Cry in the blood of lustful agony

She screams in pains of echoed intertwined
Admired by the suicide of her own existence
All by a cold ill fated design
Beauty dressed in black trenched euphoric destruction

Her spirit will always live on strong