Crippled yet ageless is the reverence we hold
Shining but of dark silver painted gold
Inadequacy is a plague that flogs thee
Possessed and undressed in the ebony
Beyond reach of mind and hold to shot
Bloodied eyes and corpses to rot
Bones of porcelain stained coffee ground
Despondency for which of mine heart bound
Oblivious to succession in conscious beat
Troubled ground and anxious beneath
Knot to hang by on Christmas day
Oh for what sorrow, take me away

For bells chime and ovation heard on ears
Disapproval and devotion found in years
Compliance and dismiss on a same tongue
Memories are thoughts, not undone
For I weep not my own faults or imperfections
As humility be not one of mine lessons
Crows call for words unspoken and lacerated
Hold of mesmerizing true of defecation
For bellows call widely and people sing
But echoes of past failures ring
I am without a calling cause to be
For I am within awe of thine ability

And still not the voice I wish beckons unto me
And perhaps dedication is thine epiphany
For those who wait and call for some
Are those whose blood will never run
And to be an everlasting serene
Is but to never see thine leave
If flesh of white and crowned be king
Than heaven be-ist the finer things
Man beyond his grasp on humanity
Is but another fate-less human tragedy
I wish to not hear those echoed cries of breath
Until I shall greet, with veil, my death