My silence and my skin now break with every needle reft
My mind lamenting the desecration of this casket of flesh

I stand surrounded by those who pulled me from the depths
The mutinous children of the exiled and the dead
The gospels of our retribution now stain their every breath
As their call to worship falls on ears willingly deaf

I am but the newest incarnation of a dying legacy
Carrying forth our bloodline from the belly of the beast

The sympathies of the most wretched fall on my weary, crooked back
As it leans with the other steps on which we have built their path

And here, again, I welcome the familiar emptiness
That lies within the ruins of allegiance to myself
A shrine whose offering plates have nothing left

Go, now, and serve the worldview we'll construct for you
It is our gift to every life that we consume

My feet fall heavy on these sacred grounds I've never known
Beyond depictions from the windows I know now as walls
And illusions of safety within numbers
I can't remember the last time I felt such comfort
Such validation of a path so unsure
Such a sense of purpose, such a sense of worth
Go and cleanse our lands of those who enslaved you
Let every pelt collected warm your bones
We will find blessing in the will of our god
Through whom they will one day be overthrown
Never question, never recognize
The fear they've concealed within their teachings
Reminiscent of the ones that I left behind

As we encroach upon a figure all alone
Seeing the mark of the ascended, we'll see he will not make it home

And, at our dear leader's command, we will pull the flesh forth from his bones

I find the child laid still in the shallow grave of my innocence
And forever carry forth the stain of my own allegiance
Never the same
Never whole again

Still, I feel no meaningful change
In myself then or today

Still, I await my first taste of true autonomy

The blood of every last self-serving king won't sate this thirst
And yet, wherever I go, my dominance defines my worth

What has become of me in my efforts to survive

I am the death of all the constructs we hold dear
I am the culmination of mistakes that we have made for years
Never growing
I am anathema to the innocent who still live in fear
Of the self-fulfilling prophecies they whisper in our ears
Never failing, deviating
Like everything else

The blood of every last self-righteous fool won't sate this thirst
And yet, as long as I've lived, my anger's followed me from birth

Never failing, never deviating
Like everything else

The blood of every last self-loathing congregant on Earth
Will never be enough to sate their own god's thirst

And so a question is born into my bowels
Sending waves of apprehension throughout
My body collapses to the ground
Beneath the weight of my own corrupted crown
Am I my god
My god
My god