---

The gaping wound of a slit throat

Blooddrained, bleak wrists

Or the empty glassy look

Of a synthetic death

Self-caused domestic destruction...

So sadly beautiful, like a work of art

Right now...

Nothing is as loveable to me

As this sorrow and longing

And don't we constantly run away

From what we desire?

Reverence fot the attractor

For death...

These emotions... turn to hate

As I see all this fake compassion

And everything turns red

Remorseful feelings of guilt

Won't clear your soul

Self-caused demostic destruction...

This is madness you say

And maybe is it so...

Still wonderful to my heart

An obsession, no doubt

For the silent emptiness...