Quicksand Reality

Dogged fears hastily pursue  
And in the dust of your heels
Your sole defense lies in lips of silver
Forked tongues heave to wipe away
The tumultuous pressure within my heart

Awaken, broken yet pieced together
A simple shift to clothe my path
With bare feet, I and we traipse a stair of cards
Give way to ornate metal sculptures,
Shaping your reflection through smoky eyes

In uplifting devotion, a head does not turn back
Beneath the ladder of delicate creation
Sculpted fingers grasp strands of reality
With every foggy breath into the night
Water in a net of dreams is where
I lay my weary head

Against a dirty wallpaper,
Pounding of sins beg to define
What all shall truly revolve within the hooded head

With every rasping breath,
Walls seem to melt as sand beneath my toes
Whimsical path forgotten, the burning begins
Lips of silver refute the given prophecy

But words  of false imprisonment encourage
A forgiveness of souls, a hatred of those immortal
In a house of captured time
One last smoke drops to the ground

Together yet alone, forever and right now,
A faulty step in quicksand
Brings it all to their knees
Fall down in prayer
Together we shall fall asleep
In a burning room of sin


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