I’d open your heart with such surgical skill
This will not do!
She’s been born anew
My crown, I’m adorned,
To be queen of your pain;
Wear your skin that I’ve flain.
That red violent day, killed those in their way;
The Order crusades, hunts those who won’t pray.
Asphyxiation by avarice,
Lost in a sea of plastic bliss.
A grim procession parades; a toll must be paid
For the soul of a victim that could not have been saved.
No Moses am I
Pan finally awakens as the buds of spring burst;
Though too late to save our sweet warrior being cursed?
I sit perched on the edge of a mountain;
On the ruins of safety once clung to for life.
Rip at my cords and claim my fame
As they tug at my will to resist.