Season Of Reckoning

O' broken one, porous fiend drawn on your faith, bleeding you clean a shadow stands there in that field waiting on you, dragging you in hungry ghosts, their silent screams haunting you, heavy heat cavernous dread, compulsion's toll the atmosphere, sound woe looking out the window into the field beyond the wounded are crying out vacant urges, let the work begin they speak of subtle truths and raise them to the sky they and their eager sin which puts us all to sleep and now the bitter fruit the poison root the shift is coming up here for the harvest mouths packed with dirt pointing now to the field the season of reckoning blessed parasite, let the work begin a thousand years, a thousand waves denigrate all the same we are that river looking back the illusion always wins, faith can't change that malignant limbs the shadow wanting you you and you eager sin let the work begin