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Braying in the recesses - the furthest reaches of my mind
Fiends once dormant break through crevices I can't disguise
And abstracting (their) abhorrence with whetted embered fingers
Provide no reprieve that lingers

But these wounds and burns offer serene calm
Keep the closing promise of life's window ajar

To churn through neurosis and latent foes
Whom caressed this battered body with whispered woes

Summon the light
Flood history maligned
Retire the grind
And wait for fate to rid my benight

Retreat to the sanctum till the clarion calls
And idle in boredom through the mental hell wrought

Feigning brothers
The grief bandaged smothers
Retired fire
Of hate and seared fate full of benight

And through the trials and tribulations we must toil
I long to be transported away from this meaningless coil

And as we return decrepit lives
Tempt to run cuts deeper with crooked knives
I forge content to wallow in narcotic tides
And fall to the master - curb my benight

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