A Feast for the Starving
Give out to the whispering desire Dissatisfaction in a world that demands You ignore the voices shouting in the hallway And cling to praise poured out of empty bottles…
Hold tight the paper hand Follow the scent of dust and madness into the past These black tunnels beneath the world Where evil whispers it’s secrets.
And It Shall Be Called Desire
The shop door welcomed me To dust and ageless shadows,