Daggers at its full charge
Targetted for bloody chaos
With agenda as cause and purpose;
the swords soar sky-high

Angst
the sea engulfs leftover scraps of hope,
like vultures encircling a carcass.
Should they wish to have me dead

Taste sourness with a scrunged face
At tip of tongues you find daggers
Awaiting prey's throats and chests
With thrusting vindication

The finer days have sailed by
No room for salvation
No more room.