Author Information
Of Men
Fists flew in perfect time
Her eyes dashed to mine
Bodies broken on the rocks below
Down the deadly incline
I tread the earth in solitude
A sickly simple sound compells me
The voice of reason cloudy
My conscience laden in dirty deeds
Know the path you fear
Choose the bed you made to lie in
So you can burn the sheets and hide
So you don't have to face what's inside
The ending isn't perfect
Because the liar has his last word
Every picture is for tearing
Your stifled cries aren't heard
News upon the wind
Black crows often carry
The ones that make you hollow
Keep an eye open, be weary
Of men who crave the pleasure
Of beasts who starve your heart
Of calls that don't come through
Of words that tear you apart
