Desolately awaiting nightfall,
The cool dead feeling, to fall on my face,
And I'll forget this day,
In this corridor of Hell?
Thinking I would tell your secrets?
Left for the Vultures to tear at my skin,
To relish from my skull, the contents within,
With these dark demons of prey,
Send your Eagle this way!
In this corridor of Hell?
Thinking I would tell your secrets?
Entirely surpassing the point of apathetic submission I spilled all,
Yet with every surrendering word I let slip
The more un-satiated the Vultures became...
But sprawled upon this mires coagulated bed,
I forget the plentiful pints I bled,
And dwell on many more I let them shed,
From my honest brother's blameless head.