They say climb back into Satan's womb

Feel its warmth, a verdant tomb

These thoughts weigh like stones upon my chest

I've had trouble breathing before but this is too much

Those who retreat into its deep embrace become something more than we ever have tried to be

Something born not pure but which watches us bleed

I have plumbed the depths of Romans, of John's last words on the Lord's death, but I find no solace

I fear these roots make us onе

They will come to see the violеnce of their decisions as moss fills their mouths and chokes their ignorant throats

Repent!

I have stared into the abyss and it will keep staring back

Lost to history, hymns of misery, bear these gifts to me