The new age born it runs with roars
and savage frailties of it's ear up youth
Seem married to a reflection of clowns
The fringes have deepened their frays
and long are this nights arms holding to their tattered torches
The fabric tears and tears become them as more of valor succumb and quest with their higher knights cause
No acts heal my hearts dissections in the darkest souls delights, from here I must if taken, march through the razored maw
Tunnel trek the rubbled shit to different light
With an ass a man or both or brothers
Solo or solid in tuned to anothers
Each in silent personal musics of hope and lost to the eternity of a valid prayer
-Hermit King-
