Exhaled a city of blue, broken dreams,
A bard’s breath of what changes blow.
Lit by strings of lights that blink fast and gleam,
flickering with old hopes to show.

Oh, this night is fast and sounds asleep.
These roads are raped, ragged, and wrong.
Still move we so slowly through thick cloud and dark chain,
while singing sweet, burnt offering songs.

I’ve spit blackened fire and cried tears of red rain,
I’ve cannibalized simple and sane.
And I’ve learned to respect the littlest things
that crawl under skin and through vein.

Oh, this night is fast and sounds asleep.
And these roads are raped ragged and wrong.
Still slowly we move through thick cloud and dark chain,
while singing sweet, burnt offering songs.

Oh, the world is precious, endless, droning noise.
Oh, the world finds silence reproachful.
We no longer hear our glass heart’s beat voice.
And I know here’s where I’ve found my purpose.

Oh, this night is fast and sounds asleep.
These roads are raped, ragged, and wrong.
Still move we so slowly through thick cloud and dark chain,
while singing sweet, burnt offering songs.

So this is for you: a burnt offering song.
I hope that you find it was worth it.
A ritual death from a fire lit long,
fueled by you getting all that you wanted.