Descending Submersed in the cold grasp of inertia Shrouded in these blackened wings Where I will sleep Listless Callous of the wake Fear is god on this spiteful earth And to the earth I plummet Tearing the chill winds Freezing the veins of reason I am but filth A fabrication of faith And a testament to its worth I am the breath returning to god To final and finally rest Altered I have shed the delusion of hope And spread wings in animosity In which there is truth And I am welcomed With open arms Becoming one with the soil Once more