this face is rain
too terrible anyway
i like how you see pain
you steal my fame for shame
this hourglass rots in me
ticking these pieces clean
sour thoughts turn to dreams
i am the vipers means
i am the arrows throne
cult that's babtized in bone
terror heart laid in stone
nobody fakes this home
nobody fakes this home
she was too stoned to know
all of her miricles
ice on the sun is soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem