In The Dying Light

The sun drips down to rain.
Could be there’s something wrong
(but I’ve forgotten now…)
I feed a faint glimmer, then it’s over.
I feel with hands that are already numb.
So subtly it came to me:
There’s nothing more than if I lived without the pleasure of the pain in me,
I’d pass the crown and draw the curtain down.
I feed the faintest…(but then it’s over)
I feel with hands that are already numb.
I wear the same wounds that tore so open
but never thought the blade removed.
In memory, I never felt that strong;
it dawned on the day you broke me.
In memory, I never did belong
to dawn on the day you broke me.
This poisoned tip so strange to see.
I’d laugh before and you chose to ignore
for reasons. Still I wait
before the final hour to bring the hammer down.
I feed the faintest…(but then it’s over)
I feel with hands that are already numb.
I wear the same wounds that tore so open
but never thought the blade removed.
In memory, I never felt that strong;
it dawned on the day you broke me.
In memory, I never did belong
to dawn on the day you broke me.
I can’t believe, I never felt that strong;
it dawned on the day you broke me.
In memory, I never did belong
to dawn on the day you broke me.
Feeding an addiction to punishment.
Feeding an addiction to punishment.
Feeding an addiction to punishment.
Feeding an addiction to punishment.