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Her veins drink smoke from the lowest fire

Great birds draw maps upon her skin

Her wound spread open like a flower

Prepared to let the poison in.

Heavens scepter and crown of the gods

Yet we stand unblessed

Blood of the sun, yet doomed to call dawn

The Twilight of the Flesh

Lust and sloth mixed with avarice

Hear us cheering on our own demise

Unearned pride upon envy's path

When all we need is a pinch of wrath

Will you bend among the bending or

Will you sell your garment and buy a sword?

How long must we stand here

Unblessed in this twilight of the flesh?

How can we raise altars on our blood

Among the temples of a foreign god?

How can our roar be heard

In His house if that roar is the roar of a mouse?

How can we stand with a faith made to crawl?

How can we rise with a creed made to fall?

Forever doomed to kneel before the possessed...

Or is this just a test?

Her eyes are words of light unspoken

Black milk still dripping from her chin

Stripped bare and dragged into the open,

For all to see the poison win