As his feet plow through the door, an

eternal grave hides beneath him.

    This path headed towards him since creation.

In his mind, I’ll be forever convinced he awaits his day.

    Would it be right to never let him go and instead with dull hands polish his talons that are sure to cut me.

    Even if at each new dawn, smoke pours out from lips dry like a desert leaving nothing behind, but a corpse.

    If I feel the lord is to blame, I should face myself

for I am comparable to a chain.

    A daunting weight that is never to be lifted.

    Due to my faults, his mind has fallen back, unnoticed by other arteries

    For if I kept myself in check, I would have never left and his grave would have never been filled years early

   leaving my guilt as the only thing left to keep me together