There's a pulse in the darkness
That lets me know I'm alive;
There's uncertainty in the future
That lets me know I'll survive.

And in the silence there's a roar
That shatters every muse;
And there's a stain in every star,
Like blood bleaching a bruise.

I imprison my irises,
To feel the pulse behind my eyelids;
I grapple in the darkness,
For the rope that ends in an anchor.

And I attune myself to the cries
Of each fracture of inspiration;
And dance over black and blue,
As I search for blood in constellations.

Blackness creeps,
As silence sleeps,
Whilst the conscience of mankind
Receives no rest at all.

Well you know what they say
About the wicked.

Tomorrow, and the next day,
And the next,
I'm going to get on my knees
And pray.

I'm going to pray for demons to exist,
Because that way,
I can also believe
In angels.