When you look into my eyes, what do you see?

Deep within my swirling thoughts, where could I be?

Is everything moving to damn fast, or is it just me?

All my hours all I only seek is to finally pay my fee

Pay my toll

Seize my soul

This isn’t a matter of taste.

I need more than just a dead face.

In this day and age

This world demands more

Left with no sage

Who knows what’s in store.

The face that is dead

That must pull the thread,

No sorrow it feels

For the world that it kills

And is, in this blessed.

This isn’t a matter of taste.

I need more than just a dead face.

That’s all that I have,

And most that I hate,

So my thirst for destruction

I can never sate.