Fleshwork

This love, so pure
Each bit of lead wants more

Porcelain strings on me
Pulse racing
Burning with lust
Desire
To control me
To render all around to dust

So pure
The little things we sought

The gore
It peels away from my head

Watch how it fights
The iron surrounds becoming sight
Forgotten
Oil leaks from rifled marrow
I leave behind my sorrow

Can you forgive what I become
This demon is a gun

No turning back
Save me
Save me
Save me

Can you forgive what I become
This demon is a gun

Black inexistence falls
Loose rubble fails to form
Traces removed of all
Wiped from the face of terror