Sun hangs high, I turn away
Failure underground
Heart is sick and fever is high
Waiting for a sound
Like a trail of insects to me
I watch them from afar
Feeding, breeding, scheming
Tell me I am wrong
Hiding from discovery
Staring down into the ground
Had they seen the posion in me
A tide of spite wound be found
Moving faster lingering gaze
higher
sanctuary
funeral
wrong
flames
fever
found
breeding
blinding
searing
underground
light
staring
grain
retreat
centuries
heart
sanity
against
freed
conformity
discovery
moving
endless
waves
faster
spite
feeding
failure
hangs
feasting
insects
watch
inside
lingering
scheming
ground
waiting
thousand
should
hiding
trail
wound
slaughter
sleeps
sound
speak
tired
violence
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