|
I. THEY CONGREGATE TO MOURN |
|
No |
|
We did not welcome the day |
|
Though we quietly pled for the end inside |
|
Neither time nor daybreak will suppress this nightmare |
|
This we take to our graves |
|
II. THE PERSECUTION OF EVERY NEXT BREATH |
|
True living and breathing death |
|
Every breath is surely the last |
|
But another |
|
How many more will follow |
|
And another |
|
How many more can be endured |
|
Broken whispers |
|
Shy touches to passing flesh |
|
A twitch of life |
|
A cold shudder |
|
Defy the instinct to recoil |
|
Yet another breath |
|
Ignore your pain |
|
You are not your own |
|
You are the strength of life and love |
|
To usher in the end |
|
Hearts besieged by lament and relentless trial are pumping cold blood |
|
Glacial and ceaseless desolation commands the stillness we have become |
|
Submit to fear |
|
Bow to sorrow |
|
Assent to death |
|
The cold governs by decree |
|
Yes |
|
We welcome the day |
|
Precisely by the hour |
|
We plead for the grave |
|
This our bitter confession |
|
Conquered long before we begin to suffer the loss |
|
Death holds dominion over more than dying |
|
Aching for the next reachable paradise |
|
Awaiting the last |
|
Dear Lord |
|
Not another breath |
|
Cold lord imparts the loss |
|
Bound with resulting reflection |
|
Deep and deprecating |
|
Was I mindful |
|
Have I suffered |
|
Am I of warmth |
|
Worth affection |
|
Capable of love |
|
A vessel of hate and bitterness |
|
In this death so close |
|
Beset with travail |
|
I am aware of every fault and failure |
|
III. GO FORTH TO LIFE |
|
Now rest |
|
Leave your venom behind |
|
May we all have such strength |