You summon up all my demons With just a few well placed words I'm set into a whirl A downfall of self hate -Kel Dayheart


Smoke filled room Gotta get out Gotta get out Before the whole place Burns -Kel Dayheart


A peculiar air About him, seems to surround Obscure, consume him So in reality no one Really knows his real, true self -Kel Dayheart


Temper, temper Tantrum Scream and fight No relief No release Temper, temper Is your downfall -Kel Dayheart

In Poor Taste

He and I Have spent most of our time Among the beggars In debt For crimes that we Did not commit Our only crime Was to be born On the wrong side Of poor -Kel Dayheart


I want to unravel his mastery Pieces by delicate piece Until I understand What makes him tick -Kel Dayheart

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