Whore Alley

I tried to tell you of life, but those I spoke to where those lurking in the corners of the cellar bar...

I tried to reach out my shivering hand, but I thought not of the greetings, I thought of the grip itself...

I tried to read the heretic words, but those I read were the faces to whom I as my letters seem to mean the world...

I tried to look for a fight, yet what remained were clenched fist and shadows of freign words that made my day...

Like a suitor with too much to spend, bled white by a whore, going by the name of perception.
It was hers, the disease, the gift I now carry, it is bitemarks I bear.

I ventured, I lit out the darkest caves of my mind,
And I bear this knowledge in chains...

And if this godforsaken planet falls,
I would stand observing,
Waiting, pondering, frozen...