the blood may dry,
the stains on my fingers will drip,
it will continue to,
till I drop my beats and time runs out,
i invite you for a drink,
you like red wine,
taste this, straight out from my veins,
I made you a last drink,
my blood has nothing but venom,
flowing since betrayal.
I couldn't hurt you,
so I stabbed my shoulders a hundred and four times,
to vanish the rage,
that you left there with your lips.
(wanted to try something new, a new genre! here it is...)