To the morbid thoughts of redemtion

To the incoming of death and doom

I watch the suffixing from where I stand

Thou shallt not be condemed to a hell of sadness

Death is the art of the heavens

Thy speak in a blasphamous state of being

Being alone

Lost and lonley with this thought of comfort

Stay together with my imaginary mind

Speech is to the demon of everlasting love and silence

For now I must belive in what I was taught

Taught to obey a god

A savoir who we can't see or touch

A man who saved us

Who killed us

I call to thy man

Speak to me my only ghost

My holy statue

Watching the people come and die

Spoke to soon when we say we are free

For we are not

The smell is to the sight of doom

I cry, I weep for only chance

To be free

Catch the demons

Throw the angels

Hope for you

Death only comes to those who desire sleep

Close thy eyes

Close thy mind

Thy heart

Thy soul