When my eyes cry, they cry true, To bleed out as they often do.
See me as a tortured soul, And never knowing, I was such a fool.
The hurtful minds that make me bleed, Shows the knife in the eyes that to do deed.
Tho' my hear endures the thoughtless looks, My mind gets lost by the 'devil's crooks'.
Behind the eyes of evil ways, There's more bleeding to be had on lonely days.
But no knife pierces my bodies skin, It's not the bleeding without but the bleeding within.
My heart, still torn by sharp remarks, And yet again the blood shed starts.
The pain and blood run endlessly... But I'm the one who tortures me.
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