Hands Of The Dead

This is about how people can manipulate the concept of love to make you feel worthless, to make you do anything they want you to

Two jagged souls, each slicing through the other

Twisting and turning, the knife blade strikes deeper

She chained me to the whims of her games

Soul mates condemned to death in the abyss

 

The hands of the dead pull below

And heaven’s cold grip somewhere beyond

Between the fires of hell and cold touch of angels

Condemned to torment or love

 

I thought off the ruins of my dreams

I broke the shackles of tortured love

The crack of rifle shot and stifled screams

I am much more than a cause to pity

 

I raise this glass to a wasted life and wasted time

Love is only a harsh compromise

I barely had to will to survive

Five steps from a broken life

 

The best of us have fallen to love’s charm

My sense of reason lost in the whirlwind

Love condemns me to a lack of reason

Again it’s a choice between two hells

 

I thought off the ruins of my dreams

I broke the shackles of tortured love

The crack of rifle shot and stifled screams

I am much more than a cause to pity

The End

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