---

Bearing the tool to create wounds, close to my body
Victim of my own eyes and troubled by your sight

Because you are the only thing with power over this field,
these vibrations


[Searching my roots for silence
But they just scream at my false face]


You bite your own creator with your eight mouths -
and spit out her blood as it burns your mind

Troubled by symbols weaving a choking web
Starving my mind to have nothing to grasp

Slay me in front of myself
Crush my roots to make silence

Your blood burns my mind and I feed this vibrational field

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