Soul

These times are dire

No forgiveness, no desire,

No goal or vision,

Just a hollow man

In a destructive season.

Nothing remains in this

here heart, just a dream

already torn apart.

If I could wish for something new

if I had the chance to change

the things I do, my life would

forfeit in this charade

This devilry, this masquerade.

To wake up each day, and see your face

To curl up inside your sweet embrace,

To cut my body in twine for your desire

And sell my soul for just one chance...

I wish for nothing else,

I do not wish of wealth,

and luxuries and fame

Just for one last time

To see your face...

And gaze upon this

Perfect rose, which springs

to life, upon a simple touch,

Unblemished by the world's mistrust.

Here I am you Gods of Old,

take me, tear me apart,

take all you desire...

Leave my soul intact,

For it is Hers, though she

never did ask...