There's an illness seeping through my skin.
A reckless torture brewing within.
They say it's the result of my pursued life of sin.
A feeling is missing from my wasteful existence.
Isolation's not a choice when no one will listen.
My lies die alone as I seek love with a persistence.
Gutter ball my chances and I fall into a lovers poverty of dreams
Smash my heart on shards of glass and fray the ribboned seams.
So listless is my poisoned mind.
So in debt is my soul of love.
Withered by an ocean of romance.
I cherish black manifestations of the night instead of the hopeful dove.
O rescue me from this lovers poverty.
I do not deserve to be doomed.
Let all the disaster flee from me.
Don't let my heart be consumed.
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