Lowlands

Took a chance  
And spared no expense  
Enthralled in temptation’s wake  
That sulfates your eyes
 
It mocks you all the time  
 
Filing incarnations  
The mortal coil you stumble  
Abrasive bliss that stings even now  
Feeling some kind of way  
 
It’s so far from who you are  
 
Thrown to the ground  
How heavy is your time of need  
When no one offers a hand  
Only scowl in return  
 
It’s that sudden turn  
The burning and twirling satire  
That swirls your river bend  
Empties but imitates
 
Can’t seem to be  
Stuck like sauce on chin  
You can’t wipe off or eliminate  
No matter the solution  
 
It’s over before it began  
 
Drain your casket  
Try to sleep in the marrow  
Where you wither and congregate  
A lot like Medusa herself  
 
Your own reflection cracks  
 
Thrown to the ground  
How heavy is your time of need  
When no one offers a hand  
Only scowl in return  
 
It’s that sudden turn  
The burning and twirling satire  
That swirls your river bend  
Empties but imitates
 
Through your soul  
Consummated pretender  
 
Through your soul  
Consummated pretender