Digging up shallow graves from
The days past, however many bones
Laid to rest in hollow holes
And covered with tainted memories

Trudging through a swampy mold
Black and blurry faces being told
Cast your sins in metal gold
Behold your Idol, still smoldering

Holding on to callous woes
The wart is becoming tumorous
Bleed it out into a bowl
And drink up your deliverance.