Oh, How the Wind Hurts

Leading the wind towards
the wrong direction.
I'm doing every thing wrong.
It'd be flawless,
more flawless
if only perfecton
were all and
defections were
gone.
While the wind
will kill, will torture
my lead. It will
kill everything opposite
of our greed.
And as so carved in stone.
As crated to
plead.
As created to
master my soul just to
breed
more bad thoughts
in my head.
Oh, please just go
instead.
I don't deserve you.
Perfection ain't
dead.