F(R)Iend - Monasteries

once embodied in

a casket of never-ending unrest

it comes to life

lost at the edge,

the edge, of the world.

free from my jaded throne

free in a form of sin

and the walls came down crumbling

aphotic airwaves

relinquish empty lungs

on your way to salvation

you’ll pay the devils toll

the toll

and when there are no more eyes or souls to meet

we’ll take refuge in these contagious beliefs

choke on the words at the back of your tongue

ill make sure you die alone.

i dug the grave

you made it your own

tainting the waters

animosity haunts your soul

submerged in this frozen hell

in a state of parallel

frozen hell

i am not him

i am not the fiend