Ask me how I am
And I will sing you your lies
Hollow my insides with subterfuge
A hopeless, desperate, compromise

My home is where life shrinks to nothing
And souls expand at the death of stars
Beyond the veil of majestic treason
Pain reveals itself
In the art of scars

Why… just tell me why
You hide inside the mourning of existence
Created by a burning god
Heed the voice of silent sufferers
The jaws of Psyche grimly gnaw

With self-tormenting will to conquer
Raging the blind communal mob
Wearing guilty roots
Bearing fruits of blame
“We are gathered here today
To nail the sod!”

Sacrament by the lure of witches
Ends the curse of winter’s thaw
Seasons scatter with the winds of breakthrough
Embrace the death of blooming law

I wait, and I wait, and I wait for grace
May the voice of truth
Initiate a vital discord
The will to break the chains of shame
And incinerate the curse of mors


Amit Howard