The Fire — Zatokrev

All seems to waste away Whatever I try The rope slips through my hands Strong as I hold Slowly losing my arms Whatever I think The needs are not relieved So I'm cutting the rope

I move to the mountain Where the shadows wait Restless I'm crawling Direction with no way Darkness is nearer Than ever before I can see desire But I cannot feed

I'm not alone The silence's fading The sun goes down Words turn to soil

Cold hands touch the melting skin An evil face starts to pale I've embraced the tree of my own god Now I can breathe in

The fire