I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

Home | A Pleonexic Urge | The Root Of Motion | When The Candles Are Out | Love Songs To The Dead | Titans And Turncoats | This Lovers' Life We Lead | Prayers To A Ghost | Your Opening Eyes Nigh | The Enterprise Of The New Routine | Orphans And Demagogues | Nocturnal Emissions | The Fortune Of Failure | Transcension Beneath The Bitter Sun | Watching The Furnace Fire | Adventures Of The Crimson Enigma | Memoirs Of A Mercenary | My True History | I Never Knew Him | Midnight Rambling | From The Silence


Daubed beyond distinction in dim twilight.
With calm content have I frayed the tethers;
To paradox condemned, I find myself
Lying restless in a bed of feathers.
Faceless Time blindly swings his scythe through
Our limitless years, halting their emergence.
Poised, on the point of this execution;
Solitude, but the sum of my fervence.
Scattered remains from the day diffuse to
These spiralling currents, oft to remind -
Numerous tears in the fabric of life,
Cause nought but complaint for its ill-design.
Pursuant to a past, unrelenting,
Fragments of self, bow beyond detection.
Aft this engagement, Dawn rises to meet
Night's solemn, begrudging genuflection.