Thus much I deem to know,
My visions of us, In my dreams they dost show,
agonizing distorted words cut upon my flesh,
Severe yet unseen, my wounds shant show,
Melencholic tunes my wounds dos't sing,
But sadly this tune should not have been sung,
A mindless eternity, this song hath rung,
Joyless accomanied with flecks of pain,
Painted upon this Crimson Canvas,
Blood filled, this canvas of crimson,
With the personification of the name I dos't turn to blood.

by Crimson Love

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