The Poet Songtext
von Myridian

Words that come freely
Are words not of mine
Of books and tomes
Of ink and parchment
The wasted scrawling of countless years

Dusty old shelves, a lantern gone dark
Many meals left cold and uneaten
I′m wasting away, I cannot create
Maybe I left this world long, long ago

Will someone not help me?
Come, be my muse, my love, my inspiration
Hold me close, be my reason to write
And help draw this veil back

This gnawing feeling, a voice, a presence
Always in the back of my mind
Taunting and teasing, nagging and egging
Ice cold hands which grasp at my spine


Cursed am I, cursed I am
I shall not fade
Never I fade
Burn with me now, my loving fire
Forget my name
Never forget my name

Spit in my face, pour salt in my wounds
I laugh from under this thick film of bile
Watching as I throw myself away
Ever further from his ever-loving light

Make me one of your kind
The empty shell of a broken man
Brake your souls upon my rocks
You worthless whores, you spiteful cunts

I cannot breathe, this air is too thick
I cannot hear, the Angels' Song is deafening
Fuck them all and fuck their master
I′ll consign them all to the oblivion that they so desire

And if my words should fail and fall from blank pages
Then let it be known that I shall not relent


Crush the words
Bring fire to the archives
Ponder thy life as thy legacy burns
And thy flesh is engulfed
Thou art pitiful
Thou art of little worth
There can be no peace for thee
As thy flesh and bone become ash