enter.

its a lousy night to think sadness.
skinned without any good to see what's wrong,
close your eyes and you still see
what you saw with eyes open..

presently here in elsewhere,
for both the subtle and saintly derived,
for all to see, what you can no longer cry.

just waiting to fade.

longing to disappear in that cold inside
to sleep means breathing to unlight
i cannot look into..

hell, might as well take it into stride
only here my rage is inhuman
only here you retire what you could belong to.
always something
i cannot look into..