The Amensal Rise

Fourteen years away, who am I to say Fourteen miles a day, crawling through the maze Basic intuition to suffer and make suffer Communication by means of cremation Time's right for us to take our chances Vile hearts and soiled minds Once desperate to be seen Now running from the light And it's finally time for me to take my chances Frail heart, noble mind I was once striving to be yours Now begging to be mine Past versions of myself staring me down Mocking me for the mess I have made, for the mess I've become Every word is armament Every gaze is violence Breathless ascension brought down by abstract laws Propelling me down, the ground won't stop us Burn the bodies down, burn the bodies down Say his name and count to ten Burn the parish down, burn them all alive Wives and children, thieves and kings Rise, rise Put me to the test Stand upon my chest Rise, rise Bury the waste Bury the waste and wait Fourteen steps away, source of my dismay Fourteen times a day, keeping me at bay Basic intuition to suffer and make suffer Self-preservation by means of sedation There's nothing to steal and there's no-one to save No mouth to feed and no hand to take Now there's nothing to hear but chimes, there's nobody near Blind there's nothing to see you're blind, there's nothing to fear Distant tongues berating me in dialects I don't understand How long has it been dark outside? I thought it would be over within a year Bury the waste, bury the waste Frail heart and noble mind: The defects in my design Put me to the test, stand upon my chest Colors turn to numbers, my truth now concealed in the ground At last I get to take my chances and become one of them Shedding loneliness by remaining alone Spending my days burying the waste