To still his heart with a gentle hand
Fell to the bottom of the river's bed.
The hanged man and the heirophant,
And all the crooked lines between them.
Only regret could make a pillar of salt
Out of a being of their own volition.
Pandora's womb cracks open wide.
The onset of decomposition.
Is this the final price
That all are meant to suffer?
Embrace the end of him
And all that he stood for.
And if I had not you left,
I would die no longer.
So full of sorrow I am
For the loss of all.
Hope.
Amidst the rooks of their carrion feed are
The voices of (s)mother and d(e)ad.
Dust writ upon their faces,
Squirming tapeworms in my head.
Wolves starving on their bellies.
The hunger of unsatisfied tradition.
I only wish I'd buried you deeper.
Is this the final price
That all are meant to suffer?
Embrace the end of him
And all that he stood for.
And if I had not you left,
I would die no longer.
So full of sorrow I am
For the loss of all.
We were meant to suffer.
We were meant to die.
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