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lyrics

My own world has refused to accept me back. The only conscious soul alert, writhing in a ghost town. The day’s voluntary surrenders, shameful defeats, and fruitless expeditions, though devastating in their own right, were a fanfare to the endless isolation and bitterness of the witching hour. Once an escape, sleeplessness has usurped the mental clarity once restored by the veil of night. I cry out for reprieve, for a moment of forgiveness, to transcend this confinement, to be released from this prison of flesh. Once wrapped in fear, now wrapped in regret. The hinges on my eyelids rusted over. A realm of thoughts in place of actions. Ideas that I wish could be the death of me. The ferry, unencumbered by passengers, makes its trip across the river. I look past to the tranquility of the other bank. With no ulterior motives or an ounce of motivation left, I am passed over by the setting sun. Moving on to the next. Leaving me here for dead. So if the merciful end will never come, the only recourse is to trudge back and beg the pardon of a barren, indifferent desert. No circumvention. No relief.

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from Wars of Attrition, Acts of Contrition, released February 19, 2014

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