Generations are enslaved by the prince of this age
Gaping wounds that are paved with a subtle rage.
I read this era like a tragic novel
I read chaos, grief and despair on every page.
Voices of an invisible chorus shrill to the chagrin
Each note stumbles over the last like an unpardoned sin
I hear their tears echo through a shell
I hear their bitterness swell and laughter wear thin
Like these garments of flesh, and its desires within.
I ask myself, where does life end and death begin?
