I’ve been swallowing fistfuls of sand for fear
of floating.
Winter is almost over, and Hell is almost empty…
Look at all the devils, embers
in their eyes.
There is a weight to guilt,
but there is no circumference
to desire.
I’ve been swallowing fistfuls of sand for fear
of floating.
Winter is almost over, and Hell is almost empty…
Look at all the devils, embers
in their eyes.
There is a weight to guilt,
but there is no circumference
to desire.