An eerie serenade beckons me while I am alone,
it calls in my moments of despair
wishing for a tribute of blood.
The creature in the back of my mind hounds me
waiting for the moment I slip without bothering to get back up,
for what is the point if you're just going to fall again?
The blade's icy touch sends a calming sensation throughout my body
as it slides through skin and flesh peeling away the pain,
bloody tears run down my arm from the open wound.
Ever so scared of the song of the siren am I,
binding me in chains of a light unknown
tearing at my now dead soul.
Tears nipping at my eyes, threatening to fall
hitting the floor with a decadant crash
reawakening the beast within.
Sounds of a song so tantalising and seducing
bend me against my will towards a wound so fresh,
always waiting for the self drawn agony to feast upon.
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