This cold floor we know too well. hearts poisoned with pride. 

black blood dotting our warmth. 

ending our contentment. 

this place is a contorted altar. 

i must seek strength from somwhere, 

for ive reduced myself to nothing. we've been here one thousand times. 

cold idle hands, floor-welcomed knees. 

hello autumn- i need not your companionship. doubtless i stand; laying my heart into the hands of eternity. 

revive me doctines! 

await the day, when all our blood will wash away. 

the world's balance i'm too familiar with; 

selfishness outweighs genorosity 

blindness produced by your own hands afront your face. 

lips bleeding with guilt. 

frightful little friends. 

if these words mean nothing; than where is the conclusion? lyricism aside, Christ is the deduction