More poetry...
Bleed On
this was written as a punk song for a White Wolf RPG that never got off the ground
Blackness drapes the evening air,
Masking stormclouds in the dark.
Nature shrills her battle cry,
Her anger churning on the mark.
"See your God upon His cross?"
Her lightning lights the scene
"See his crimson blood drip down
Like water on the green?"
You sacrifice your God for what?
You spill His blood upon the ground.
You make an altar of His pain.
You wrap His flesh in burial shroud.
Do you hear His soul cry out?
Do you taste His bitter tears?
Dou you feel His corpse-cold touch?
Do you know His dying fears?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Bleed on me.
But don't look
Or you might see-
See beyond your ignorance.
And Heaven forbid
You ever open your eyes
To the truth-
The truth within the pain.
So just bleed on
And walk away.
See these marks upon my hands
Where I bleed from my virgin wrist?
See the fresh-lain scars therein
As it flows through my open fist?
Your God has marked my tender flesh.
Your God demands revenge.
The slaughter of the innocent
To appease His carnal sins.
And you sacrifice your young for what?
You spill blameless blood upon the ground.
You make altars of unblemished pain.
You wrap sinless flesh in burial shrouds.
Do you hear the children cry?
Do you taste their frightened tears?
Do you feel their death-chilled touch
After you've killed them for your fear?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Bleed on me.
But don't look
Or you might see-
See beyond your ignorance.
And Heaven forbid
You ever open your eyes
To the truth-
The truth within the pain.
So just bleed on
And walk away.
You sell your future for your now,
Amassing wealth and sinewed loin.
And hope to buy it back at death
But Charon not God, takes your coin.
And the Devil dances on your grave,
His contract now fulfilled,
And leads your shade past howling pits
That leave even shadows chilled.
You sacrifice your souls for what?
You spill life's blood upon the ground.
You name your altar Righteous Pain.
You wrap scarred flesh in burial shroud.
Do you hear your spirit cry?
Do you taste its opaque tears?
Do you feel its grave-moist touch?
Are you haunted with its fading fears?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Just bleed and walk away.
this was written as a punk song for a White Wolf RPG that never got off the ground
Blackness drapes the evening air,
Masking stormclouds in the dark.
Nature shrills her battle cry,
Her anger churning on the mark.
"See your God upon His cross?"
Her lightning lights the scene
"See his crimson blood drip down
Like water on the green?"
You sacrifice your God for what?
You spill His blood upon the ground.
You make an altar of His pain.
You wrap His flesh in burial shroud.
Do you hear His soul cry out?
Do you taste His bitter tears?
Dou you feel His corpse-cold touch?
Do you know His dying fears?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Bleed on me.
But don't look
Or you might see-
See beyond your ignorance.
And Heaven forbid
You ever open your eyes
To the truth-
The truth within the pain.
So just bleed on
And walk away.
See these marks upon my hands
Where I bleed from my virgin wrist?
See the fresh-lain scars therein
As it flows through my open fist?
Your God has marked my tender flesh.
Your God demands revenge.
The slaughter of the innocent
To appease His carnal sins.
And you sacrifice your young for what?
You spill blameless blood upon the ground.
You make altars of unblemished pain.
You wrap sinless flesh in burial shrouds.
Do you hear the children cry?
Do you taste their frightened tears?
Do you feel their death-chilled touch
After you've killed them for your fear?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Bleed on me.
But don't look
Or you might see-
See beyond your ignorance.
And Heaven forbid
You ever open your eyes
To the truth-
The truth within the pain.
So just bleed on
And walk away.
You sell your future for your now,
Amassing wealth and sinewed loin.
And hope to buy it back at death
But Charon not God, takes your coin.
And the Devil dances on your grave,
His contract now fulfilled,
And leads your shade past howling pits
That leave even shadows chilled.
You sacrifice your souls for what?
You spill life's blood upon the ground.
You name your altar Righteous Pain.
You wrap scarred flesh in burial shroud.
Do you hear your spirit cry?
Do you taste its opaque tears?
Do you feel its grave-moist touch?
Are you haunted with its fading fears?
Bleed on Bleed on Bleed on
Just bleed and walk away.