Funeral Pyre Blistered Hands
It's a stranded feeling
I see you
You've never been there
As long as I've known
You never will
Desperate, distressed
Ruined from the ground up
The blisters on my hands
Pain that feels my skin
The constant that has never ceased
You stand there
You glare from your eyes
This was so fragile
So what justifies you walking away?
Remove this shroud
I'll never hear why
