I'm now Mr. Reverend
Darkens the small canvases of the light
No longer in sight
A coulter of light of minds of signs of sight
The dead moth of who i used to be is now infamy
No sympathy
An unstaved, un-enslaved meaning of fire of which i desire
No light who i admire is not a dire, tired noddy of head body
I counter the attack of monsterful liars of ragged attire
I can be a bastard child of wild, defiled of fantasy of empathy
True to me to see who i'd be if no-one knew who to be
Hypnagogic, psychologic, psychotic, antibiotic, erotic thought of psychic on mind kick
No i don't stick no longer vasoconstriction, diction on living a lifelеss fiction
It's 2 in the morning, i got no warning of mourning dead who i dread