Time it seems to me has accumulated within the breastbone of the harpy strumming her harp
She is not alone
NO! death is her choir
she serenades me "liar"
is the word in her tune

I regurgitate the sins that are mine
to be encouraged and hear her pine

She knows the songs of my heart
how vengeful those ballads art'
and also of the string I pluck in my head to drown out the fires which heat my heart and set my blood to a boil

The harpy sings for madness, for chaos and death, I pray at times her voice overcome that of reason so blessed silence reign forever within the lines tied to my begrudged

Aye! the harpy sings
and how she manipulates the strings
vengeance sweet as the melody from her harp to which I am an acoustic lung beneath

I lead her choir, I stoke this fire and embers, crimson and cold are driven from their warmth OH! madness, madness, madness, calamity and sadness soak into the cloth of my soul, darkness, and the harpy's soothing coo

Then the angels moan "what did you do"