Wormwood

The human me I've come to know
Consuming me in my own filth
Inhuman me that comes and goes
Relinquish me of my old thought

Woke up in the valley
Serpent's skin beside me
Golden noose in one hand
Stolen cross to spite me
Delphic nature brings me up
From the docile minded

Gentiles feared behind lies
Ternion trumpets sounding
Burning scripture in their minds
Births the fear of dying
Dormant brain in pregnant space
Molts the truth as decay

I'm not as cold
I might have said so
I'm not as old
I might have been so

This human me I've come to know
Consuming me in my own filth
It seems to be the hour of lust
Constricting me with my own will
It seems to be the hour of loss
It seems to be the hour of guilt
Inhuman me that comes and goes
Relinquish me of my old thought

I'm not as cold
I might have said so
I'm not as old
I might have said so
I'm not as cold
I might have said so
I'm not as old
I might have been so



Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Sickler
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