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Soulburn
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I Do Not Bleed from Your Crown of Thorns
Can you see me?
I am the thorn in your eye
I bet you sense me
I am the ever growing presence of your fear
Come have a taste
I am the sour tissue ravishing through your pores
Like a mass grave expending evermore
Like a multitude of plagues reviving
Holy is your name
Like golden hope, all draped on the highest of thrones
Of misfortune and loss, grief and despair
Like beggars of the lesser kind
Sustate et videte, quoniam suavis est Dominus beatus vir, qui sperat in eo
Give praise to the lord, oh merciful lord
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I thrive on decadence on the stench of decay
as I tighten the knot on this chain of flesh
A chain of at least a hundred newborn children
entangled by their necks and feet
'For holy is your name and yor glory is eternal'
And we all shall flourish in your name
and feel the warmth of your enlightenment
All withing the circle
A circle of slithering serpents
Like a mass grave expending evermore
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