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From ages, beaten, rotten, He rises from his own ashes. He touches the skin, venomous, Of the one who had breathed the fire. He burns bright, with envy, With all the hatred within. The skin bleeds and wails On the mummified corpse Of its own sins- Its past deeds. The past rises high And swallows the dead eyes first. The skin, once venomous, Lies at the mercy of its own reflection. Justice, they say, Takes a long time to act... But, they can only heave a sigh When they finally see The Time isn't as far As it seemed to be...

I bleed blue, I bleed it all out; A single gun-shot, And a deep wound. Like a broken ferry on a vast, vast sea; I tremble, I shiver, Drenched in the cold memories. They still know your name; They ask where are you. For I was you then- Complete, Unsullied. For they still are there In the old battlefield, Fighting another war. I've changed; I've been soiled. I've bled all hues; I've seen it all. My sore wound rots; I await no war. Sullied, Smeared, I collapse, I shiver. Broken and twisted - I am you now.

My brave warrior, Thou art no Lazarus. Thou will not resurrect. Thou dig thy own grave. Thou cannot bequeath Thy slayings to the soil. The soil shall not bury Thy charred soul. Eden waits not for thou. Thy scars won't go; They won't leave, They won't heal. Wear them as a curse. Wear them as a curse Till thy corpse rot. Thy soul shall suffer While the blood-stained Weeds will shout, "Wear it as a curse, Wear it as a curse!"