most days are spent
lying in my room
avoiding the mirror
avoiding my housemates
lying in my bed
self medicating
searching this deep chasm
for something to say
some simple relation
that both of us know is true
for in truth we can take solace
their truth
our truth
oh to lament
to grieve and to mourn
what's fair
is any of it true
because none of it makes sense
what a gigantic waste of time
the magic is in the blood
and the rivers long ran dry
so we tell stories
of when it ran red
of when those whom were righteous in their aim
stood with bounties of sacrilege
hung around their neck
how time stood still
how colors seemed brighter
those tempered winds
providing safe passage
now on this rock
under this midnight sky
only a reflection of light left to guide us
hope in our memories
hope for tomorrow
clandestine day dreams
clasped in our lockets
the howling screams of the damned
these silent prayers
these mice whisper
this bread goes stale
oh to be righteous
to be fair
amongst wolves
to offer your soul
to surfacing demons
to lay waste to the future
by surrendering your past
