I playback the recordings of treacherous words that bottled from your mouth

The countless receptions of the deep dark thoughts in your head, that decided to bring forth to my pain

Memories of spetical performances you gave to the audit of your choosing, to mask the letters of that sharp knife of your tongue, 

Embodied voices speaking with conviction of my worthlessness, ambiance of my pressure

Buried beneath swelter leaves and the depth of the dirt, where it stayed

However the transition of ash never came, just to scatter what is left of flames of burning aftermaths, dirt disturbed by a hunter digging to hide their prey, 

Scoping the scene just to identify danger approaching, once cleared the new hunt begins.