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From within I feel it ripping through
Not ugly, just hungry. Slowly consumed
Fighting back is an act of futility.
So with pride, I wear this hat and
embrace the cold being that I will become
Hand and foot, the shackles, they bind me.
Horrified at their origin.
Imagining the way my seed has diminished
Into the chains of my imprisonment.
It all comes to pass.
He saw the days coming knowing there is
no halt to my ascent.
Yet I lay, with three stones naked and beaten.
Droplets rain upon my face like fire in my eyes.
Sourced from the fangs of putrefied immorality.
Destruction of worlds, and I will be triumphant.
Yet I lay with three stones, naked and beaten.
