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The scorpion deathlock

par The Devil Wears Prada

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Distance decreases as if time is a dying cockroach.
Plagues enclose.
Sitting upon this wooden bench, I am helpless to billions of bullets.
In this moment I am helpless.
Why is it so difficult to see ourselves?
No poem I´ve wrote, Nor song I have sung, can halt the army of wrath.
Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers.
In this moment I am helpless.
Serpents will transform into mice only to drown in the deepest red.
I´ve always expresses my thoughts in colors, but we remain blind.
Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers
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