Grim caress of isolation, a heavenly cry demanding redemption. Craven endowment my falsehood of truth- breathless despair and vast prudence. Walk with me into the maw of our oblique future... We find ourselves at the shores of revision, to trust in avertable needs. I am immolation, you are a privilege. Shameful ways and harmful words, for a thousands suns could not lumminate these woods. You are without a face, divine and out of reach, a partisan of faith, with a lifetime to be. The enigma of the lost forever in disfavor. Unfamiliar with the now ohh the burden of desire.