The lord has gone,
But the lord is god,
The lord has fled,
And his own sins are shed.
Across the flying window in space,
Travelling across the universe and days,
Heaven and worlds ablaze by chaotic heat
Soaring to the sun with my cold, cold life.
I am the mirror on the silence,
I am the ghost in the poverty of your mind,
I am the son unborn and waiting to die.
The devil is mine and his blood soaked wine,
Splashed across the guard of night,
With the moon upon the lady's finger,
And the sun dancing behind the cold arms of winter.
The mirror of my mind,
Transverse and colour clouded,
And all my thoughts are born and raised,
tutored lovingly by the hand of life
The infinite scream to pierce the emptiness,
Hollowed tunnels between reason and the void,
Crawling across the galaxy in the eternal mirror.