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Death By Desolation
Three silent demons
With mouths sewn shut
Whose glinting eyes tell post traumatic tales
In a strange polygamy
Scream a Siren's song
Under our shared featherbed
Comprised of broken sentiments
Through distorted voice-boxes
That somehow still sing so clear
Singing worry about everything
Nothing is alright
Resurrect in the mourning
Which is reminiscent
Of the quaint, tainted night
Think of nothing and everything
Nothing is alright
And just to further disturb you
To make you feel sick
You will enjoy this death by desolation
Every single twisted bit
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I've been having a really rough time lately and this outlined what I felt in the moment. It kind of scared me to see it on paper to be honest.