It's easier to take an individual out of a wicked land than
To take wickedness out of the individual
there was no escape
your soul bewitched mine
the instant our eyes met
on velvet nights
our bodies bled into one,
moonlight kissing flesh
a love so full of fire
the stars themselves
faced inwards to watch
our nightly worship.
- my heart still remembers your touch, does that make me wicked?
Lord, I need some devine redemption
Because I move like a heathen through the night
Depart some solemn words of wisdom
Deliver your blessed sacred rite
My god your wrath is so sweet
I am consumed by it's salvation
Let me offer myself to you
And save myself from your damnation
My wickedness will have me burned
I make a covenant to you from this day forth
Enter me and make me clean
Fill me with your righteous seed
Command me down on my knees
I'm praying with my mouth to please
I offer myself as your possession
To use whenever at your discretion
tattoos, the mark of Cain
instinctively inducing revulsion
stirring a mix of fear and hate
and of contempt and pity
today a common mark of man
mistaking individuality for identity
abhorrence for affirmation of being
and grotesque debasement for beauty
the mark of exile, rejection, and wickedness
now of fellowship, freedom, and choice
embracing the perverse to shock as all children do
now permanently etched, defiant without understanding
perhaps it is fitting and timely now
for the world is going the way of Cain
the mark of man is yet another sign
manifesting openly for those given to see
So blind, the blind despairs.
So wicked, ***** grieves.
So indistinguishable from evil,
their judgement of evil, truly just.
So indistinguishable from their ruthless enemy,
the utter destruction decreed shall befall both suddenly.
The aggrieved weeps.
The wicked hardens.
Wickedness upon wickedness.
Endurance beyond Lot's,
given, the righteous' lot.