Emotional scars hold the key to the lacerations on her skin,
A mouth sewn shut cannot talk thus this story begins.
I had a dream of you last night hands laid upon the dead.
Remorseful spoke your teary eyes as sorrow was dancing through your head.
Why does the blood on her hands have to leave such a stain answers why does such a hardened heart feel such bitter pain.
For a soul so crowned in torment her escape was bittersweet,How was I to know that life had made her death complete.
Then I thought I knew her,Its dark and I can see.
Its my lock Its my secret your hands are upon me.
