Through Infectious Waters

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.