The Sour

For whatever its worth
and whatever I may find
your flesh renounces mine
and surrender wrecks my spine

I've held on to the rope
I've followed through the cave of hope
I've taken little steps as told
and all I found there, was a wall

Still above the trick I leap
and only today let the memory make me weep
and now I grit my bones;
this is not what I was told.

Finally the realm of composure
crashes as you breathe
as the drama ends with percussions
that only I can hear

And in the numbness of revelation
that the gory line was crossed
comes the paralysis of realization
that when you walked me down that aisle
I got lost

For whatever it was worth
to me and you and the puppet master of this world
today the abyss wells to hell
I still hope all your todays' aisles - hear a bell