Razor Blade
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Is it the taste of sin you guys love?
You dare to touch it, it burns your flare.
You find it irresistible – live its heir
All of a sudden – we call it hell.
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How it is that enchanting becomes the spark of a match?
As you stare at it, it dims its glare
Imagine how you would light up that cigarette,
Temple is your body, yet you worshipped hell.
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A patch of grey stain clutches into you
What is it that I can do?
Your ears are blinded by its bitter taste.
[Beer you! Hear me?
What has deaf’d you? – tell me. ]
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By W.A. Garcia
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