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The scars were once the wounds that wouldn't heal
A knife that cut through the skin and vessel was double edged
Desires to aid the open wound, statue in the state of heart
The blinded bitch that threw the poisonous dart in perfect dark
Later is the sooner before its spark
An empty soul met across a room without the end of start
Molding in together what was once falling apart
Saving emotional in pockets of free man down the street
He had a high hat,black vest, and a rose on his chest
Light dims the distance of the ways we decide to diminish
Demise comes to roots to recycle the process again
Rising ashes from something that never has been
Soon an opening that a stitched hole, is now a breathing sin
Finding true allies and fusing make of the pretends
See both sides to conclude the daily basis
Prayer for keeps and routine outcomes that circle a great making
 
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