Baskadia

Slowly it nears and it's

forgotten.

Call me the reminant

Of trespassers.

A hubby of pain

I galore with. And a sincere

Lonely truth no one sees.

We grin in pain.

Such sweet poison.

Among foes we carry

The seven orders of death.

Banished from us is the

Sole dwellers that ignites hope.

Must I say this?

Within is a dark soul

Lounging to reap all that inhales.

Like a mass destruction

Its a symphony of history that would

Be written to ridicule your very existence.

Be wary, they spit amongst you

And a clutter of friendship they seek

The very limb that won't heed to this

Would be stranded and judged without a blink.

At the very best,

Dark souls yearn for a hearing

What's the reason for joy if it can't

Outshine pain. Such solace.

Breathing is not enough

We live every day to see a quarter

Difference from yesterday and a table turn for our cause.

Chased from Fogo Island

We forge to dance to the tunes of our music.

Melody from the hands that beat the dead skin to pump joy in our dark souls.

Sincerity is not accommodated.

Try it and your flesh will be left

speechless.

Embodied in us our dreams

That will be, but unsure when.

Crimson tide would always be there

To wash away my joy.

And announce to me how weak I am.

My weapon is only my imagination.

Take it away from me, then cast me to lots.

For now, I will have no use

A weakling I would become

And a merchant of

paradox.

Dark soul is not evil

But fighting evil.