This flesh holds me captive and in quest of liberation
As the sheep flock in the dissonance, I tread in dissent
To the piercing light that sears our hearts;
To the sickness that plagues our spirits
I cannot revere in this blind acceptance and falter in my comprehension
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit Ö that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate Ö I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh
Nothing here, nobody there
Erroneous illness shouting
The outcry reviles this tattered soil
Drowning the world in filth and distortion
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit Ö that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate Ö I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh
IÒll leave my conscience to die
A barrenness of dreams and anticipation;
Life and hope shrivel into the void
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate Ö I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh
In this pantheon of sorrow,
We are everything, yet nothing!
And as long weÒre breathing,
The burden devoid of conclusion!
Unaided I slither Ö ravaged, silent and alone
I smolder in anxious strife; I decline these exhausted remnants of decay
The world is coming to an end; a vast ocean of disease
All hope is lost or perhaps this is the cradle of salvation
I must tranquil these turbulent waters
No more expressions shall leave my trait
No further words shall be spoken
This illness they conceived broke my tired wings