Ten thousand ways to die


And always like black ink seeping through
We slowly slip into a dark cage
Nothing but a small hopeful fire will ever reach though
With particle arms, hanging from a slip knot ending
With catering puppeteers like running water deceased after a storm
With a thousand winters withering to your soul
Finding your ballad was as manifest as your innocent grace cascading
Begging to be imbrued and released from contrition
Can anyone see internal dilemma?
Does a mirror block their lives into not being able to see beyond their simple observations?
An open door to the raw heart
Under gears and turn style contingency surgery
Laces of red weaving into the sun like veins in a corpse
Images of a black-bagged creature under the shudder of rejection
Writing with blood on the walls for our public to see
Signed sincere penitence and never reach back
After sorrow for sin arising from fear of damnation
And ten thousand ways to die
Are we yet down to one simple cause?
For the adamant appeal for abstract detraction
And a insinuating over dose of slit-wrist paper actors
Monocratic grouping of species above the charts
To only realize we’re all so very small
And after all the words plastered like a small stain in the distance
And after all the formidable smells of white lace
Lie alive and afraid
Truth be begotten to the menial interference
Though sanity and sense is gone in the end
No one will ever stop the return to our ring