dreams of apocalypse
wine on your teeth and lips
blood pushing out fingertips
that grasp at your skin
cracked voices sing
a melody that burns and stings
scraped out of the lungs
and spat on the ground
and we're all breathing smoke
on some dubious hope
as the mind makes the world
in its own broken image
we can't lose our way
because being lost is the way
this agnostic prayer won't be heard
but still we say
oh have mercy
on these frail bodies
oh have mercy
on me
we can remember
in the rapture of hallucination
passing through these gates
as martyrs and apostates
this blood is real
even as we lose the strength to steal
the fire of the gods
we can't escape their chains
and all that remains
is a memory like tobacco stains
nostalgia for an age
that has not yet come to pass
the last beats of the heart
hollow out our broken veins
and all that is left
is this empty refrain
oh have mercy...
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