I'm wearier than I want to be


perhaps I took it too hard for too long

pushing my body out of its misery

into all places where it didn't belong


I thought the hunt for heaven was a breeze


I thought I would have a trophy to display

brought back from my reckoning to please

the tribe that welcomed me back from my day


well foolish me none could have cared less


the boon I brought was tossed aside

all were dead I'd have hoped to impress

all were gone in whom I'd confide


well merciless miracle Source Of All That Remains


what do I do at the end of this meaningless quest?

where is the grace I thought I'd obtain?

where the victory that should've been for the best?


and in indisputable silence comes the cold answer


who told you to do what wasn't in you to do?

what blessing did you take as vow to swear?

did you really think this would absolve and deliver you?


and so it was my pride that took a prize


made of my own pledge to do right

and in that delusion I offered up cries

that made diminishing echo under the bell jar of my night


so this lesson in vanity hard and firm


beat the body until it was no longer strong

now to serve out the length of its term

in all the places it didn't belong...




Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.