max08-bt

my world in a cold shade of sapphire I chase your days  with the flight of life to no avail, I long for a voice to admire roars long lost, sharp is the silent knife my days in a dusty coat of crimson pressured air cuts your throat to my bones vibrations lay waste to my every dimension  in weight of blood, dreams I shall atone my eyes in a coffin of crystals seek your signal past the realms of men faces form above the timeless vistas and disappear without a word of when my mind dark and devoid of warmth hidden by the cloak of unconscious choice dying things need time to die and I am of sorts for I lost your voice in the sad infini