Whipping any trace of me
Every step taken must be clean
Unlike the blade I hold
For too long I've been leaving a trail
Of pain and anger following behind
Nightmares and fear haunting my thoughts
Doubting my moves, taunting myself
Too damaged to start again
Looking back to mistakes in red
No eraser to redress the plan
Beauty incarnate, every step must be perfection
Chances left dead, uncertainty triggered the knife
Lured astray into the forest of lost
