Let the darkness take us away

Oh how the mighty hath fallen
The last march of saints and sinners alike

And blessed be the sick
Who dwell among us
In torment they guide us to our death

Their feeble moans, a disharmonic choir

A heart wrenching symphony
All virtue, dismissed in the final flicker of the sacred flame

A cacophony of shattered bones and lost hope
Buried deep within this wretched tomb

How typical it is of man to hold a flame up high in the darkness of the night, yet awake to cower at the very first sight of the morning sun.

A bizarre communion, the ritual digging of mass graves as history perpetuates once again. And I watch it swallow every living soul that clings to their dehumanizing existence with false morality and zeal.
How can we move beyond the grave when we've dug so deep for so long?
So we count our feeble blessings as we lay ourselves to rest

And here lyeth man, buried within this wretched tomb.