Fly

Blind the fold
palate the visual field
paint your scent
down my throat
intrude
display
chant the image you can't withold
keeping the rhythm with your scold
make new the energy
refuse to grow old
this twisted tongue
tortures my come
there are things so wrong
that would destroy you pure
and then I'd laugh
so immature
alone you stroke
quick in this weak end
I'll show you the enemy
it's quite a handful
it's so wrong
dark and mistaken
slowly slide
these word corrupt to become a frown
for no smile I seek
in contorted bones
thrust
psycho drone
hurry and come alone
come back home
and heal.