Fearful Creature

Fearful Creature

 

Sky red over cast rimmed with the lingering sun set, if the ruins are gold then thank the giver of un folding mess, picking at their fingers with an old carving knife, praying to his mother in another life he’d have tried so much harder for another chance to live.

Hey there antichrist, where you been all of my life, I’m sick of becoming all of what I preach against, Fearful Creature fear me not for I am not the one who you should hold beneath your crippled thumb,

ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.

The creature watches wildly, always misunderstood, as the smoke consumes the town in which his being was always overlooked, picking at the stains that reside in foul blood, his ruins turn to gold and blister, flake away and finally he has a chance to thank his giver

Choke on all the dust and all the dirt and all the fire that comes together through the cracks of my nailed crypt

Hey there antichrist, where you been all of my life, I’m sick of becoming all of what I preach against, Fearful Creature fear me not for I am not the one who you should hold beneath your crippled thumb,

Sky red over cast rimmed with the lingering sun set