To Create. To Live

Sincerely, The Void

Such pretty petty little things

All our sugar salted lusts

Tongues that taste of dust

To much skin-to-fire contact

And every flaw under harsh lighting

Fear behind the curtains

Smiles masking screaming

Shiny cult of personality

Bitter good things crack

And pain made to be companions

Mistake coloured regret

Pointless fighting doubt

Strange under a spotlight

Death at your door

And we warmly welcome darkness

Sharply overdone orders

Paying for poor acting

Dreading all good things

Poker faces that can't win

And our unwillingness to escape

Black charcoal hearts

Disparing lovers promise

Burning ice over dew

Humorous funerals

And every thought that killed you inside