Dead Skies

The flame is doubt
The flame is trepidation
The flame is an abolition of the nexus between man and spirituality
Timor mortis conturbat me [The fear of death confounds me]

I am so humbled by this
That which looms heavy like soil
But sits in the chest like smoke
The crushing finality
That you ain't gonna live forever

(Now)
Cut your teeth on life
Gum at the afters
Rewards and blandishments sized
What of the priests who are stealing the tithe?
Bathing in dead skies

The void of uncertainty!

With such baited arrogance
I've mocked the weighted sickle
Can't say I'll be called awake
Blaspheming beyond the break
Soul lead heavy

Sharpening teeth is rife
They're useless in the after
Punishments garish and wide
I am a priest who is wasting his life
Praying to dead skies

It's simple, yet resoundingly complex
The approach is maddening
Terrified by the nothing
This phobia is not confiend to haunted men
I am what you will be

Fellow man
How dare you tempt me with the prospect of judgment and then release?
With rapture and scripture and opulence that fall from your mouths like dead leaves
The rules set in opposition lead me to march into the flame

Into the flame!

1... 2...3
Go back!
Go back!
Go back!
Go back!