Through Infectious Waters (A Sickness Elegy)

(álbum: The Burning Halo - 2006)

This flesh holds me captive and in quest of liberation
As the sheep flock in the dissonance, I tread in dissent
To the piercing light that sears our hearts
To the sickness that plagues our spirits
I cannot revere in this blind acceptance and falter in my comprehension

Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire
Heal this restless spirit – that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate – I consign
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh

Nothing here, nobody there
Erroneous illness shouting
The outcry reviles this tattered soil
Drowning the world in filth and distortion

Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire
Heal this restless spirit – that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate – I consign
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh

I'll leave my conscience to die
A barrenness of dreams and anticipation
Life and hope shrivel into the void

Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate – I consign
Heal my heart, my weeping soul
I consign this putrid flesh

In this pantheon of sorrow
We are everything, yet nothing
And as long we're breathing
The burden devoid of conclusion

Unaided I slither – ravaged, silent and alone
I smoulder in anxious strife, I decline these exhausted remnants of decay
The world is coming to an end, a vast ocean of disease
All hope is lost... or perhaps this is the cradle of salvation

I must tranquil these turbulent waters
No more expressions shall leave my trait
No further words shall be spoken
This illness they conceived broke my tired wings