Thorns

One great metamorphosis arises
Across my pitiful life
Since I am your earth's depression.

Three long nails are enough
Around to cover the wood
When rusty thorns numb my senses.

I taste sweetness of the crucifixion
Let me bleed among the crown
You can never give your face my pain.

Upon death's mountain I wait for the stars
I still feel the hungry touch of the sun
Flames that burn my tortured barren skin.

But the cross makes me strong
For what I become
I am your captive butterfly
So high beneath the sky.

And I close my sleepy eyes
Fall with my thoughts and you
To a forlorn red temple that cries
For the lament of broken dreams and oaths.

You've swallowed up the shiny fruits of my love
The kisses that you've given were not honest
Only your greed for mind devastation
Slowly I kiss the final line of own self-righteousness.

I hear and see the clouds cry
Your heaven's black water sigh.

Inside this storm I am alone
Like a useless stone that must atone
Within a cold perdition's fire
The doomed man underneath the salt of your tragedies mire.