Bleed

Three wounds in this body
Blood now running like rivers
The sound of streaming blood
Composing beautiful tunes

Storming like blind hatred
Performing the art of killing

Of such beauty
I offer this body
As a temple of the dead
Emotionless hollow grave

Ancient soul that already died
Screams still echoing silently

I reach out my hands
Welcoming the cold

Obscure is the past
And all there is to come

Remember
The pale white face
In the mirror
For it is
The Death itself...