Fire and Ice

Every flame is wicked.
A masocist illusion has flooded your brain.
A product of what's to come, my God what have I done? These veins are so easy to rip out.
Save a flag for your dead, collect the price for my head. There's a bloody bag of coins for grabs. 

Every cicle is vivid.
A hardening stone has breached your heart.
A reaping to amass, cut my throat with broke glass, there's a price for this way.
A dream that seems to leak, there's anger in the seems. These are visions that just won't get out.

Every cut is fire and ice.
A ruined vessel has emerged.
A wish for all the luck, a head full of enough. There's a bump in the night.
Lash out your fears and bloody all your knuckles. There's a end to this road.