“One day, my child.”
Waves of anger flows in, these sickening hush creeps, and lurks the devil around your path. Where they start destroying you into bits of crackles, finding you to not fit. Gravity clings onto you as you rushes down the high skyscraper.
Lights fade out, where no more is someone called hope. Running inside the doubt you caved in within their phrases. Where the knots of disheveled hair steps further into the depth; where Snow White ate and died.
If I could be so bold, to state flaws to the dream murderer. To let the tears flow freely as the words spoken from my mouth. To this life I breathe, soft yet ragged dagger flies to them.
If I could-
“I hope you (can) live well under my sin.”