Everlast.

Eternal soul of black and blue
touch my hand and I'll save you
for life's just an illusion
a plague that turns comteplation
into confusion.

Wanderer of the dark,
your touch may be sharp
but love with soften
any blade
although it doesn't occur often

Tear apart your frail parchments
the bleeding won't rid off your malcontent
and love won't rid of your lonliness either
slaining peace won't feed your inner seether.

Bit the hand that kills
feel the rising sun
raise your hands, touch glass
everlast.