In Irons Lamentations
Now I'm face down in the dirt under the weight of my sin.
My chest collapses, I can't breathe.
Face down in the dirt under the weight of my sin.
My chest collapses from corruption within.
I'll write a shallow hindsight to bleed an empty heart
from my pen.
Regard my weakness as enlightenment to a sage.
Man is a miserable wretch, plagued by his wickedness.
Regard my weakness, we're all just foolish men.
A lamentation for the insensible soul.
A threnody for the morals of man.
What have we become?