Vincent Valentine A Sad Crying Clown In An Iron Lung
This is a gift of self-damnation,
written in blood, beauty, and eloquence,
and with this gift I give myself to burning eyes.
I've lost more than I'd ever imagined.
My wings are burning... Fast.
Keep company with killers, whores, and thieves...
It's how I stay alive.
As all limbs have died, we continue the saga...
Of one who has faith that his message will be heard.
Every tear that I've cried has now been frozen...
An anthem for ghosts created on abject words.
Beauty and devastation...
One can never be alone.
Burn the amaranth.
Hear the last cry of the martyr.
