cover me in your curtains of shame,
rip my believes out in perfect shapes,
bind me in an oath of silence;
you are packed in countless covers.
twirling in this labyrinth of disguises,
will i ever find the key to match the portal to revival?
the scattered remains of my earlier self
are woven into the ground by your dark curse.
digging through the empty spaces of this refuge;
this sanctuary cannot satiate the restless.
wisdom is abiding by it's own perceiving;
still absolution will not liberate the guilty.