The Secret Song at the Center of the World - Old Wounds

The suffering spirit, the burning of my flesh.

I reach within, but within the coil lies only sin.

Possession takes hold, as obsessions unfold.

The few who know the hunger escape the light.

The few who seek the power, feed off the night.

Within these eyes a calm so sincere.

Beneath the chest a heart so bleak.

I’ve become a slave to the dark.

A rattle against your bedroom door.

A reminder that you’re obsolete.

To rid yourself of disgrace give up your body become the wraith.