Upon the sign above your head a word was scribbled down
A group of letters making up for something more profound
Consider this - that you are not entitled to your name
And neither are you crucified for what you do not claim
It all becomes a foreign tongue, a book you cannot read
Propensity for vatic spells, to them you've taken heed
And so remark the cursive notes addressing every page
Your oath inscribed is legible to those who share your fate

Her eyelids lock like gates upon the home behind her eyes
And in her quiet dream's estate she wanders through the vines
The hands she has contain the marks of every single thorn
That one by one began to grow the moment she was born
And as the blood continues down to cover both her arms
She feels the cruor like a seal obstructing all that harms
Her flesh has been a canvas for the painting brush of time
A work completely visible when she unlocks her eyes

I made you my confession room and opened up my mouth
Without a second thought began to pour my story out
And at the end of every day I could not understand
Why it was that I would feel the weightiest of hands
In slowly passing over me and resting on my head
I knew that they were learning me but why - could not have said
Amalgamated perfectly, my tendencies a prose
They're written down, immutable, the words that I once chose
Oh listener, what have you heard and what can you recite?
Tell the world what I told you, you do remember, right?

He doesn't sleep and cannot speak
His eyes are shot, his breath is weak
The time surpassed him long ago
And even this he did not know
But there is something in his hand
It's not a ring or talisman
A faithful pulse, his beat of course
It's rather slow and losing force
Yet when he focuses his mind
He sees the things he could not find
Apart from him, away and far
The pinnacle of who we are
A birds eye view is just enough
To give him rest 'til he wakes up