My better self was always born tomorrow
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Though the wings of failed seraphs I would borrow
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As nights became obsessed with introspection
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The days a contravention of reflection
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Within the id a stranger did I form
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A lily on the waters of a storm
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I always searched the mountain for the chasm
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The catalepsy caught within the spasm
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I can feel no more as this empty shell
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I can feel no more as this empty shell
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Delusions in the grandeur of the dawn
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My better self , in essence, was stillborn
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Catalepsy In Staccato Rain
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| Chalice |
