Addiction to drugs and sex taken on by the shape of a women.
Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain
So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again
Bared on your tomb
I am a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon
Come above unto me?
For once upon a time
From the binds of your lowliness
I could always find
The right slot for your sacred key
Six feet deep is the incision
In my heart, that barless prison
Discolours all with tunnel vision
Sick and weak from my condition
~Cradle of filth- Nymphetamine
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