12 October 2012
All I want's a little less. To get this feeling off my chest.
Sometimes it's like I can't breathe. My inner daemons writhe and seethe.
My inner angel's disappeared. This loneliness that I have feared.
The words are running from my lips. My violent, shaking fingertips.
A stutter in my cracking heart. As feelings tear me, tear apart.
You try sleeping, carry on. When your head is filled with song.
A song bewitching in your mind. Yet you search but cannot find.
A torture, sweetly, sickly wrath. Your daemons reap the aftermath.
Try Sleeping When Possessed. • Opuss № I