It’s the drops of hell washing over me

Soaked in the fires of rebellion here I stand 

lost in the valleys of my mind 

Still soaked I drag this sin across my being but still I’m drowned in the hell fire of the heavens

Now drenched in my root trapped by the lust of you

Or is it me? I’m trying to breathe but the air won’t come through clearly

It’s the drops of hell that have eaten away at my skin

Only to reveal the grotesque nature of my corrupted being 

The disgusting hill of bullshit piling higher than my meditation last night 

It’s truly beautiful each flaw, each curse, each cut, each attempt 

Yet I’m still drenched, soaked, wet by the rains of hell still trying to drown me

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