[02:13.29]Like fingers they claw at the sky,
[02:22.86]pylons of a pompous foray.
[02:23.61]Sentinels to look down upon with vacant eyes.
[02:32.73]We kindle our willing to strive,
[02:33.48]to remain separate.
[02:33.87]A farewell to the spoils of fate,
[02:57.51]in shallow graves.
[03:01.77]We dig a hole deep in the earth,
[03:15.12]dig it deep to hide all our guilt.
[03:17.01]A trio of sarcophagi - triadic deceit.
[03:34.32]the quagmire could swallow whole,
[03:34.95]the black well of our malady,
[03:51.72]we grasp tight of offered hands,
[03:52.35]to stem the flow of defeat.
[04:01.89]We pick the bones cleans of their worth,
[04:02.64]whisper [sweet] nothings into empty warrens,
[04:04.11]mock prayers to revel within,
[04:08.28]who has seen better days?
[04:08.79]Zealots practice silent vigils,
[04:12.36]we turn out attention upon their axis,
[04:13.89]imitations inured with former glory,
[04:19.59]we ignore their remorse.