Your faith can't save you.
Your prayers, they mean nothing.
You'll never know true sorrow.
What makes you so different?
Rotting away.
Decaying in beauty.
The pain never ends in the garden of despair.
The leaves drip in misery.
The skies grow darker, masked with dread.
These hands have never looked so pale.
Rotting away.
Decaying in beauty.
The pain never ends.
His face, motionless.
Eyes open, full of grace.
Staring into the void, searching for ecstasy.