You Think Death Is Beautiful?You rotten man... I've suffered for you for the last time. Does the sun begin to rise? Where is the warmth? Did I cry for you? I don't remember... But now you're dead, so it doesn't matter. I'll never confide in you again. I can't breath... Oceans of blood suffer the wicked man. The rotten man in my dreams. I caress the needle...You Think Death Is Beautiful?
Tears fall like rain. Riddled with bad metaphors. Riddled with unfortunate dictation.
Oh god... I'm dying...
Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. I can't... I can't seem to breath anymore. &nbs
TrashAll Metaphor“If I have seen a little further, it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants." - Isaac NewtonAll Metaphor
I’m flying by the sun; a modern day Icarus with my waxen wings. I soar through the sky, as Daedalus warns me of the Sun and the sea. What I’m running from is the Minotaur, bent on my death. As I approach the sun, my wings melt and I fall to the sea and drown.
This is, of course, all metaphor.
My wings are my salvation, Daedalus my anxious mewling of self-doubt, the Minotaur is my fear that I must escape to survive.
The problem here of course is that, the closer I get to fee
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heaven's going to burn your eyes
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heaven's going to burn your eyes
eeeehhh.
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