We fell in love, with dust in our lids

And the pain of a severed soul



We lowered our heads and lifted our face

Placed our bodies in celebration

Poured the ointment of grief

On the lips of a mutilated man

I carry the bones of a deformed child



And with my own polluted breath

I speak the old man's words

In a persuasive eloquence

Bless the dust that hides

This unlamented head



On the crest of fire, our wings are burning

How glorious the pain

And the ways of God, shriek out of tune

All is lost but hope



On the crest of fire

Our wings are burning

To the wind's anthem

All is lost but hope