Gore in your eyes in hues of umber,
in days gone under the skies without slumber.
Tears haven't sufficed what you had to endure,
what you had to blame and shame on yourself.

You wish to wage wars back in the sludges,
as an ode to lost battles, snakes rattle.
Blood bled and shed on innate broods,
to no end, death on the elusive hand.

It is raw rage that surges through your veins,
you don't have blood to bleed anymore,
he was no vampire, but turned the empire,
of your body to dust, turning you to a forgotten mist.

Floating around with no voice,
drugs...