Waiting on the spire

Great explosions in demon suns

How I tire

Of these meaningless games

Of animals never tamed.

My job more difficult

Because of you

And your filthy diseases

Which for deviance you were due

Enlarging funeral pyre

I hope we're not the only ones

How I ache

For cessation of crowded lanes

Psychic chains

Dragging me to man-made dark

Souls kept screaming

Should I use my tools for mercy on myself?

And leave the toys alone?

A captured choir

Moved by the trilling of insanity flutes

How I hunger

For the sobbing dames

And the angry men

At war with themselves

Because of fate

Chemicals arguing about life

Or about nothing.

The refuge is on fire

Forcing us to inhospitable places

How I bleed

For those I've burned

For tables I've turned

Taking us all to the basement

So we can brood in our private cells

As the fire licks our wounds.

A place of healing

Morphed into a place of hurt

How I die

Taken by my own tools

Its my fault, but theirs too.

Or God's, for letting us fall.

Let them escape

To heal their minds some other way

Let sunlight break through

I know its you.

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