Testo III

I have always seem to feel this way. Only a child giving up so willingly. You took no second chance. You took no time for sympathy. Repressed childhood. Force-fed abuse. There's no validation. There is no excuse. Lacerated hope. Tormented. Beatened and bruised. Bludgent and used. This tide will turn rendered with time. Tearing at your will like you did so so many times to mine. Flames will linger for this history. There's no time to pent. There is only destiny. Time will go on. Forget about this place. Pent it for too long. Save it for another day. We'll cross again. One day I'll live again. One day ours lives will end and one day you'll perish by my hand