I live in the fire of your discontent.  Trying relentlessly to reconnect.  Nursing your envolvement in my regret. Standing strong against awful torrment.  Listen no blood, no harm, extra foul.  Because when tomarrow comes ther will be no now. Your fishing for thoughts, and im baskin in vows.  "I do", said the groom in that lonely room.  "I dont think he knows that im a late bloom" . And I quote the virgin doom.  Desire and lust is all you trust.  No wisdom and hope . Man, throw me a rope or swallow your lies and choke.  This is my surrender, Ill Never represent her. My death and birth start in September.  May be later pretender.  Bye...