Zatokrev Peeling Skin
Young man's fate
A burden
His power fueled by fear
Eternal slave
With a trail of blood
Perfect bait for damned thoughts
Peeling the skin
Well known ghostdance
With no shape
Far away from his own needs
Lines are filled with
An unreal silence
Repression of pulse
Till the end
Steering dying flame
Black water entwines with a messenger of pain
Who leaves a sign
