The Fiction Become's Clear

Face it. We have been dreaming for too long. You can keep your prayers in the house, just to watch them burn. When tongues become ablaze, our screams turn into whispers. Cutting off our voice's to spill what was once red. Dripping like a cheap heat just to stop our skin from freezing. Our hearts shatter the hollowness we have kept them in. How did it come to this? "Just keep it all in." When there are no more home's to swim to, we have grown part from these waves. Suffocating to the shore line, our lives were washed away. Now the only way becomes clear, straight from The Salvation to the grave. I have found all the answers, the truth is right here. I can save every one, but no one believes me. Into the den of wolves, we march.

The Path of a Followed Idol

We have filled the earth, with nothing but disease. I sat back to watch it burn, but no match will strike. What grace is fading into the wind, if our journey has ceased to begin. No matter how vast our lives grow, the old is sinking in. The dead walks the earth in hope to never wake, we shake hands but it was only a mistake. I can speak aloud for the face in the crowd, to witness our lungs grow cold, we have wasted so much. Now the seasons change, we all let go, the years have died. Our feet sink further into the sand of sin, it wasn't our fault, we were pushed without force. I found faith when it was too late. Now my mouth is filled with deceit and now my heart sinks with sorrows.

Forgive me, I didn't know enough.
Forgive them, they followed me.