BURIED DEBT IS A BURIED MAN
OF SORROW AND GILT WITH A MIND OF TILT.
NOT ABLE TO HEAR, NOT STABLE TO STAND,
BUT YET HE ROAMS THROUGH OUT THE LAND.
DEEP REGRESSION FACE DEEP REPRESSION,
AS THY INNER SOUL CRUMBLES APART.
SEARCHING FOR AN ANSWER IN A PLACE OF CONFUSION,
DEEP WITHIN THY HEART.
CLICK ON, CLICK OFF, WHERE IS THY MIND?
HERE THERE, NOR ANYWHERE.
BE THIS THE PLACE THE ANSWER TO FIND,
WITHIN THY EASY CHAIR?
LIFTING THE HEAVY METAL
TO POINT AT THE MAGICAL TEMPLE,
PULLING BACK ON THE HAMMER,
THY THOUGHTS BECOME SIMPLE.
SUDDEN LOUD, BRINGS THE SUDDEN RED
OF CRIMSON TO YOUR EYES,
THY BLINK, AND TRY TO THINK,
OF WHAT HAS JUST BEEN SAID.
YOU LAY ON TO THE FLOOR, WET BENEATH THY HEAD.
IS IT YESTERDAY? IS IT TODAY?
WHAT CAN BE SAID? WHAT CAN YOU SAY?
YOUR EYES DO NOT CLOSE,
BUT THE DARKNESS COME.
