The Vestige Of Thorns

Remove this mortal coil
The nucleus of life, a vestige flame
Where memories are adrift in a capitulum hollow
Remove the heart and marrow
The perpetual rhythm in a pallid cage
Replace it with thorns, dried with age

Scar me, bleed me

Remove the ghost of being
The spiritual fiber which makes a man
Lost inside, haunting this fragile cavity
Like smoke that abandons the flame
A shadow’s impression which never fades
Replace it with thorns, dried with age

Pierce me, release me

Fill what is left with a coil of thorns
Fill what is left with rusty nails
Fill what is left with obsidian shards

Shatter me, destroy me
Make me whole again

Leave a briar of thorns where once stood a man
There are fragments of wisdom in decline