Old Omnibus

Written in a language that has lost all of it's context

The pictures are no help to anybody and their fact checks

For decades you have sought it out and now that it is found

You weaponize the information you're able to figure out

It's an old omnibus

The cover's made of human skin, the pages of flattened intestine

The podium where it was found is clearly ancient skeletons

The legend of the curse upon it throughout history

You have disregarded as superstition for the weak

Deep inside its pages you are able to decipher

A spell about how death's fingers can be avoided by whomever

You hyper focus on those words, you haven't slept in days

She'd be disappointed how her little boy has changed

Since our mother departed

You've been obsessed

Pouring over her maps

You can't truly

Bring her back from the dead

I don't care what that book says