Horns Echo over Chorazim

For the bonds we dare to forge
Shine a light casting shadows

Out of sight, out of mind
Spewing acid in the night

Hunger ferments into stinging bile
Isolation beckons new hearts to reap

Scion of the mind, grafted on cursed flesh
Blind to the scorn beheld in the wake
Interpersonal warfare waged on proxy victims
Satiating closure never to be found

For the bonds we dare to forge
Cycling scars sprout on fresh skin

Scion of the mind, grafted on cursed flesh
Lingering trauma spreading like a virus
Mass of horror
Feed on the pain of tormented lives