When you look up,

My bones will levitate before you

As the sky falls.

While the blood will seep through widows,

The Poison will creep into the contorted.

...

My wrist will write a book on scars,

Covered in 300 pages...

Made of tears and blades.

My eyes will drag you down,

To the realm of chains,

Where restriction is "freedom".

My body will move a platform in sorrow.

Whilst you shout.

Whilst you're covered in density...

Whilst you're losing your destiny.

...

My hair will droop,

As my limbs become aloof.

The bones have turned to blood,

But even that's expired.

The coating of my skin,

Has been drenched in black rain.