Crowned in leather
Bound in chains
She picked over
My remains

Following after
A Holy Host
Desperate to silence
Her terrible ghost

I wish I could see
That look
In my son's eyes again
I wish I could feel
Her hair
Brush my face again
I wish I could be
The man
I was meant to be
Adoration, tender hope
The stream bed
Has gone dry
Nothing more
Under the bridge
And I
I Wanted to be
The man he thought I was

The burning embers of anger
The black mold of despair
The dry rot of loneliness
This house is coming down

The landlord seems distant

See the dust and cobwebs
Of empty stagnation
See the crumbling facade
Of pointless neglect
This house is coming down

Abandoned property

See the clapboard windows
Of blind conceit
See the overgrown weeds
Of pointless life
This house has fallen down