Very few swords have been left
Off the grinding mill
I will talk to dispose all the energy
That you helped build inside of me
Rape is the absolution
To own the unknown
The spectral to the feared
Are tied in sacred hands
Hands that break their own hold
Nobody can ever tame
That which is not true
And no one is defeated
Unless
They have lost to themselves
And for those that have lost:
Emptiness is filled only with emptiness
I die with expectation

If all words are living lies
To keep the glass over the dulled flame
Then why incubate me in this feral manner
Where even dreams come as questions
Every time I look outside
We realise how much we had to be shunned
Certainly you must think the way I do is the
Last milestone
To loneliness