Like cobwebbed lives Illusive signs Mangled cries Feel the fear all surround Decaying night Ungodly sight Unspoken light Feel nothing except their sounds Run Licking, tasting the blood What have we all become? It was always awake, unspeaking, observing, watching, unnerving, Every hour to minute to every second of every day it lurked. We always will be watching you. The final hour has to turn. The salt of the earth, will fill our lungs; Nations drowned in the sea, our kingdom has come. Skin unscathed, eyes well aware who we are. What we've become. Survival in vain. Fill our hunger, a fate unfeigned. The final hour has to turn. Your mind, your soul, a gift to yearn. An offering An absence Unwilted.