The Well Redux
Mother, tell me a story or sing me a song. It's a sacred sort of disorder how these sisters came along - of flocks of fools, and dozens of men who fell through their thrones into the abyss of again. The kings of earth, crippled with crowns, and the cursed criminal who turned it upside down. So we shout: ""Hold us together. Tear me apart."" May our suffering sing the hymns we couldn't hear. ""Hold us together even if it tears me apart."" May our blood be spilled for the life of this world.
""Do you feel whole?"" Will you see my face?
You are. I'm not, but you are.
Dead to conceive life that tells our stories.
""Hold us together. Tear me apart."" May our suffering sing the hymns we couldn't hear. ""Hold us together even if it tears me apart."" May our blood be spilled for the life of this world.