Pupil Slicer
Creating the Devil in Our Image
Gnashing chains spark with volatile abandon
Lives on the line like straws are pulled at random
Metal claws, traced their tips a-
-Gainst bone where flesh once unsundered could whisper alone
You are home
It appears whenever
Life transitions phase
Pierces my gaze
Burrs piercing a sphere of rust where now I lay my head
The cage held by hooks, suspended in emptiness
Indifferent to the taste, becoming a flood
Burrs piercing a sphere of rust where I am laid to rest
Father? Mother? Do you hear me?
Curled up and lonely?
Blindfold of thorns, warmth of ashen form
Now generations from the place where I was born
Blackened marble, scripture here is torn
For what I once was, no one will mourn
Rebirth true
Same as you
Fading dream into
Revere me and kill me
The son of God, the son of God
The son of God, the son of God, the devil
Questions not answered, a quest for romance or
Give me a meaning, I have no feeling
Harsh, harsh abrasions
Between inconsonant patterns
Wires, wires unending
Like veins they carry blood
Nurtured by that nightmare
Take flight and seek what you're to be
Don't look back for me
Transcend death and let the future take its course
Suffer like I did
Surrounded by everything but death (Death)
Leaving this reality
Cold iron flavors of the stains they're yet to be
Formed of imitation, every one is just like me
The devil in our image, its creation you will see
Suffer like I did
Dread laden misery, it weaves beneath my skin
A monument to everything you would have been
A monument to everything you would have been
A monument to everything you would have been
A monument to everything you would have been