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#4



Destruction of the Mass



Seeming massacres, allas



Losing the support of the hand beneath



Touching...Yet I just can't seem



To not glance over the shoulders



I used to feel comforted

It should'n hurt me to be free



Like you keep telling me



Loneliness' self fears me

Death just runs from me, though I keep chasing



Misfits embracing,



His shoulders seem my grown....Fealty



Never relying on love alone

That known, let me stand perplex



Over your hastened request for sex..

Love and lust are not my thing



I left you, thinking

Was that a first?



I seem to thirst



For the satisfying feeling, a vocation, really



To the excellency of becoming me



Ultimately



(Necranime: `Seems`)

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