Categories > Original > Poetry > Self Attack.
Self Attack.
1 ReviewsShort poem. Title says it all.
Tonight,
Let your skin become mould,
Your heart become liquid,
Pour yourself into
this bowl of insanity.
Watch it drip,
Your eyes show the colour,
You know all too well,
I know it aswell, honey.
That same very colour
Of the basilisk fangs,
How they change,
when he's done with
his prey.
And I'll have you know,
Oh, only I know,
That you're not done with
yourself yet, baby.
Let your skin become mould,
Your heart become liquid,
Pour yourself into
this bowl of insanity.
Watch it drip,
Your eyes show the colour,
You know all too well,
I know it aswell, honey.
That same very colour
Of the basilisk fangs,
How they change,
when he's done with
his prey.
And I'll have you know,
Oh, only I know,
That you're not done with
yourself yet, baby.
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