A Martyr Left Alive

Bless us with lost blood
No sacred skin remains above a waiting grave
On faith
And with fanged teeth, angels starved will feed

Spared of sacrifice, unrepentant, into rotting arms we flee
Severing the serrated wings used to burden the bereaved

Famine fell like rain from desecrated skies
To bathe its thirsted tongue with the tears of those survived

To the sky I prayed
For flesh not yet decayed
I wept when heaven let them die

The holier the thief, the heavier we grieve
Hallowed be a martyr left alive

Bless us with lost blood
Inheritance of pain a satiated grave
Stained by fate and false belief, angels starved will feed

To the sky I prayed
For flesh not yet decayed
I wept when heaven let them die