Deep cuts, weep much.
(the)Bound-up (will) sew shut.
Deep cuts weep much.
(the) Free will bleed well.
Jilted perceptions. Dissolving faith.
Brittle ambitions, kept safe.
Impotent wishes, that we embrace.
These paper tigers, perish without a trace.
Shrines and alters set ablaze.
Fragile ambitions that couldn’t be more vague.
Impotent wishes, that we embrace.
These paper tigers, ignite with a simple gaze.
Deep cuts, weep much.
(the)Bound-up (will) sew shut.
Deep cuts weep much.
(the) Free will bleed well.
Its will, its mountain will.
Widespread and inevitable.
Its desires, its black desires.
Opaque and unfathomable.
Not to reap but to taint.
Sewing salt for a sure fallow fate.
Not for greed but for rest.
Killing noise, even beats in the chest
Not to lead but to end.
Laying waste to the hearts and the minds of all men.
Not to prune but to fell.
Purging rot, a whole empire to quell.
Not to loot but to ruin.
Grasping hope will soon be our undoing
Not to rule but to burn.
(En)trusting all to the birds and the worms.
Its will, its mountain will.
Widespread and inevitable.
Its desires, its black desires.
Opaque and unfathomable.
Deep cuts, weep much.
(the)Bound-up (will) sew shut.
Deep cuts weep much.
(the) Free will bleed well.
A billion footstep trodden paths erode away.
Cave wall murals of war will crack and fade.
Structures that reached to the sky fall back and decay.
Sunlight can burn these hideous prints from our eyes.
True ease is only gained when we agree a truce with fate.
For freedom from the looming rise
Of endless, cruel, blackened skies,
Which await our creeping demise,
Purest white forever in their place.
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