for he'd forsaken all he had to give you
|
greater than words can say
|
for he has given more than you needed
|
a death on the cross to pay
|
|
decay alone with self pity
|
and you . . . not to blame
|
thoughts of death become your pleasure
|
a sanctuary in your head
|
|
long awaiting peace embalms you
|
to prepare you for your sleep
|
but behold the image alters
|
from what you saw it to be
|
|
quiet does surround you sister
|
isolated you will be
|
the smell of death is no longer pleasant
|
and darkness brings you fear
|
your hope for escape it fades
|
your sentence has been served
|
|
if only sister you had listened
|
to the sweet words he used to say
|
for he'd forsaken all he had
|
greater than can be said
|
|
-----------------
|
Quiet Surround
|
| Ethereal Scourge |
