Sipping nectar from the source
Led down a bloodied path
A mirrored helm, a plastic cell
Fateless road to ruin

Children with guns, fiends with shields held high
Martyred under some spiteful flag for nothing
Bodies mulched for profit, for glory, for godhood
This malformed ligature is binding in me forever

A wounded deer leaps higher
I've heard the hunter tell
Tis the ecstasy of death
And then the brake is still

A pox on our souls
On our ruined house
Less than we desire
And more than we deserve

A wounded deer
Leaps higher in the dark
Grace. Morality
Fealty. Malformed ligature
A pox on our mutilated souls
Coagulated Bliss