Measure my feelings with pointed needles.
Which get stuck in my lungs and prevent me to breath.
Measure insane of your Devil, your Vines.
Which danced with your past after their decease.
My happiness by summer death's-head moth flying,
Is tossing in someone’s clamped cruel palm.
And follow by broken rule, broken fake-sign
I am dying so slowly till the first light of down.
My pain is bowing to your certain possessing.
I can’t take away from my heart heavy quill.
Measure my weakness with sword ‘cas it’s pressing.
Measure my love ‘cas it bleeds crying still.