Burden

You'll cut away from the hum

Of dull machine noise

In our final wake

She'll turn her eyes from the site

And mourn the life's respite

Left a burning hand

We're shutting off

Cold specter of

A memory, a memory

Left to fade

It's genocide, winded path always scattered

Alluring dream, blindly it walks

Down a path, through the long and forgotten

While the shame burns on and on, and on

To the lost, to the sunk, to the fallen

Mantra of, "Live long, decay"

At the first bitter taste of the coffin

Carry on indomitable hate

Seed within me