I can taste the salt from my tears

That glide down my flustered cheeks.

They are like a blazing fire that constrains my plied soul.

I am the remnants of your shadow that grows smaller

With each layer of darkness.

For the foul in the air has taken hold of my destiny,

And plowed down my tortured visions

With one strike of the gong.

There is an echo that rings throughout the town,

Sending you crashing into my glazed tomb.

I am the follower of the saintly winds,

And honor each vow with concise precision

That eradicates the shivering moon.

I am shattered by your dangerous tones

That milk my soul and drive out my sanity.

Please, my master of the skies, shake down

The demons that eat up my dying flesh.

Make this congregated body fall with one blast

Of your thunder, so the meek shall inherit the earth

With one credence of your spawn.

For in the middle of righteousness lays the blanket

Of somber truths that shall be embedded within the hearts

Of man forever embalmed by liquid fire.