can you hate the beast that bites your hand
if it bites out of blind rage
red nature, so cruel
let the weak bleed and the thorns sink in

can you hate the bird that flies away
if it breaks free from its cage
black crow, grow wings
let my gills spill tears from your true will

can you hate your soul for longing death
if it glistens crimson as blood
can you pretend to be blind to your mind
if youre also beast as much as man

the blood of my veins
it tells me im right
the bones of my cage
they tell me im wrong
should i listen to the voice of my heart
it whispers my truth
i will open this chest of mine
with the dagger you gave me
i will listen to all the voices of these inners
and i will create my own truth
with these bones i splintered
i will forge a weapon of my own
with this boiling blood
i will infuse my sword
and with this calloused hands
i will sever the skyline

what is left
if my wings are cold and frail
and my body is bruised and warm
let me be worm food

if the bright blade means spare
let it become black
sink it in my chest
let the rabid dogs feed from my flesh

and if the blue moon shines over the glade
and the bugs have forgotten my name
nothing is left
let me be worm food