Vengeance
It is the strong taste of vinegar
It is the hunt
A dangerous quest one must over come
Though the obstacles are never ending
It is worth the fight
Through the thorns of death's sweet black roses
The field of memories
Love is the death of most
A wave of emotions pouring through twisted veins
In reach, yet as far as the blazing sun
The mocking birds followed by the vultures
Waiting for failure
Because it is them who were sent by Satan
Because they want you to be the next
The death, the sin in which gives them life
You feel nothing as you as a being fades
Into just another whisper among the rest
Among the luscious black night roses and thorns of dark hate