(no subject)
I can tell that my darkness has its hold on you
Hold me, a savage return
calm, when we find a crack
oh, what have we done?
What have we done 'because its right'?
Cleanse, us too soon for silence.
We're too soon for the latch and grease,
not so keen on holding up green hands,
say why have you told us to stash the setup?
there's no part that's stolen
enough of this, give us a promise.
-------------------------------------------
I have an apostrophe on my forehead,
Just one, no more
A break, a pause, a condition.
There's even grace in your clippings,
I just need to grab hold
But here my hands rest at my sides.
Not unwilling, iressolute. Soluble,
melting into a cosmic cipher
the world around me is not who I am, but I am hidden in it.
-------------------------------------------
Float and tear away, -- Tessalate
You only fit yourself,
Budge a stich and design a cataclysm
A poem can destroy even a man,
for men are made of dust,
and dust from the spoken word.
Shiver and lambaste when played, -- Tessalate
You only fit yourself,
Cut my lip and resign a tattered system.
Old and outdated, overplayed,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
surely, surely, surely,
but where is the goodness?
where has it followed?
Where is the mercy?
Where has it followed?
What dark path have I taken and lost it,
I feel like Pan missing his shaddow,
I feel like Jezebel evoking God to rend the heaven.
Where are your eyes?
-
Hide Your face from my sins and blot out all my guilt and iniquities.
Cast me not away from Your presence and take not Your Holy Spirit from me.
My sacrifice [the sacrifice acceptable] to God is a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart [broken down with sorrow for sin and humbly and thoroughly penitent], such, O God, You will not despise.
-
There is a war away from the battlefield that all men must fight
there is always the moth of temptation and the rust of greed
even away from the battlfield all men must fight
six seconds of defeat, six years of agony
Hold me, a savage return
calm, when we find a crack
oh, what have we done?
What have we done 'because its right'?
Cleanse, us too soon for silence.
We're too soon for the latch and grease,
not so keen on holding up green hands,
say why have you told us to stash the setup?
there's no part that's stolen
enough of this, give us a promise.
-------------------------------------------
I have an apostrophe on my forehead,
Just one, no more
A break, a pause, a condition.
There's even grace in your clippings,
I just need to grab hold
But here my hands rest at my sides.
Not unwilling, iressolute. Soluble,
melting into a cosmic cipher
the world around me is not who I am, but I am hidden in it.
-------------------------------------------
Float and tear away, -- Tessalate
You only fit yourself,
Budge a stich and design a cataclysm
A poem can destroy even a man,
for men are made of dust,
and dust from the spoken word.
Shiver and lambaste when played, -- Tessalate
You only fit yourself,
Cut my lip and resign a tattered system.
Old and outdated, overplayed,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
my cup runneth over,
surely, surely, surely,
but where is the goodness?
where has it followed?
Where is the mercy?
Where has it followed?
What dark path have I taken and lost it,
I feel like Pan missing his shaddow,
I feel like Jezebel evoking God to rend the heaven.
Where are your eyes?
-
Hide Your face from my sins and blot out all my guilt and iniquities.
Cast me not away from Your presence and take not Your Holy Spirit from me.
My sacrifice [the sacrifice acceptable] to God is a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart [broken down with sorrow for sin and humbly and thoroughly penitent], such, O God, You will not despise.
-
There is a war away from the battlefield that all men must fight
there is always the moth of temptation and the rust of greed
even away from the battlfield all men must fight
six seconds of defeat, six years of agony