THE SILENCE OF MY COMMON FIENDS
SEEKS REVERENCE BY EVERY MEANS
CURSED, WORN, SHALLOW, TORN
AND THE OLD BRUSH BURNS BRIGHT
BACKWARDS, THE AGE-OLD SEA
FORWARDS, THE BECKONING WILES
FORGOTTEN TO THE REST OF ME
IN AREAS OF LIGHTS AND DARKS
THE GREYNESS OF OUR COMMON ARTS
WHAT
IT TAKES
HESITATES
AND THE OLD BRUSH BURNS BRIGHT
BACKWARDS, THE AGE-OLD SEA
FORWARDS, THE BECKONING MILES
FORGOTTEN TO WHAT'S LEFT OF ME