Turning Blood To Wine

As the blood flows like wine,
We've come to dine,
On the bodies of the dead,
As we're opening our head,
To the ideas that poke out of the curtain,
Make certain,
They keep a place inside,
Cause a secret is hard to hide,
Once it gets too big to maintain,
It consumes your brain,
Slowly eating away,
And making every day,
A horrible experience to live,
So please forgive,
The accusations,
Cause I lost my relations,
When I broke my back to find your heart,
Among the pieces I pick apart,
I'll find the gold in the dirt,
But I can't escape the hurt,
Dealing with this alone,
Doesn't mean I've grown,
Just that I don't want to invoke sorrow,
From those I wish to see tomorrow,
Cause I'm dancing with daggers,
Even as my body staggers,
My mind is sharp,
Like the soothing melodies of a harp,
I won't leave this to be,
Cause I'm free,
Spiritually,
Lyrically,
I'm listening to the saddest song,
Always finding something wrong,
It's never a prefect fit,
As I break it down bit by bit,
I will never see the end,
Until I'm six feet under my friend,
Cause this is a sick fantasy that's been played,
As the ends frayed,
I'm left holding the rope,
Yearning for a way to cope,
Instead of harming my own domain,
I'll remain,
Locked down for the sake,
Of resisting another earthquake,
So let me just say,
I'm a man made of clay.