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Obsidian Tongue
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It Dangles from the Bones
Where torture hit soil, a forest now stands
and therein lies a famished sect of man
'Devoid of the will to conquer despair
we fall to lethargy in the silence of cold airs
When fear descends...none defend'
Fevered spine Imperial
Crooked posture marks our days
Courage has been denied structure
It dangles from the bones
Blowing in the wind
Strings of black flesh
Hanging off a skeleton of disappointment
Dreams of no light
Landscape under the color code
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Dreams of no light
Many graves but one name
Ghost gasping brings an endless noise
A vacuum sound-source from brittle jaw
Its astoundment of itself
As it crystallizes in decay
Torture hit soil
The forest rang for days
With the call, the call
The bitter search this way
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