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so this is it
ths is that point we forgot about
that point we said we would never have to remember
how long has it been? how many seasons have we seen
has it been but a single storm with many eyes
can you be the thing i fled from all along?

this must be it
just as i feared it to be
the marvellous horsemen
and his name was death, and sickness and judgment
our names were babylon and abbadon
and i, appolyon can only be the bearer of wormwood

can relevation look so beautiful
could the end of the world have no sound?
could burning feel just like screaming
can your voice scorch my flesh mor than it does now?
our meen seek death this time, and death flees

when can our people be free
when can the blessed bride descend
when can my family get money
when can the happy times be other than the fake ones.
why is the beginning the only good part
why does the end come so soon
why does it never seem to be enough
why cant we just let go

our fingertips are made of sand
we werent even meant to
slip through our own fingers