It's 4 am and we will stalk again.
The princess and her bitter queen.
On the fourth day of July,
Deep in summer's eye, Naked like the truth should always be.
An angel, on his two knees.
Arms stretched, toward a red seaof violence, and a sultry tongue.
The scenic, view of carnagewrought by, the sword in his hands.
The beauty resonates in birth.
It's plain to see, the wind beneath the trees.
Flowing free, the summer breeze is sweet.
But in this place, i'm choked by my own air.
I love the taste, of your blackened lips.