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