Impending Bloom

Tattooed runes on taught skin are lies from head to toe.
Derelict of all simplicity, heavy is the tome.
Linear is the delusion, the story of defeat,
wont give up on our weaving, on weathered drums we beat.

Grow the flowers, black as pitch, from tainted soil spring.
Water your insecurity, and rains in time will sting.
Fervent is our drunken tale, our dance to paint the tomb,
compulsion to define it all, a sad and haunting bloom.

Searing love songs cauterize the wounds that are our eyes.
Treasured fame in dream and name punishes our lies.
Singed and teased, delusion seized, a cleansing by the fire,
the illumination fades in time, the cycle won't retire.

Go through every motion, fear for impending bloom.
Compulsion to define it all, a sad and haunting doom.