Born not of innocence but infantile avidity I let this mortal frame enrage My heart and conquer me Is this the light I claim I want the world to see? Or this the salt He said He needed me to be? The Pressure's building to a Boil on my tongue Festering, writhing still Festering, writhing 'til the Tension climaxes A delicate balance in a maelstrom of misery It seems that Solace is a fantasy and peace alludes my inmost being Only His heart Contains the will to hold so great a peace Still I pray I feel this Madness fades, I feel this madness fade Ensnaring thoughts slip through my Mind like poison Ophidian words drip from my lips in venomous wrath If I Could bridle this fire, if I could tame this spark But I know that it's Futile without Your intervention all I need is resignation to a greater Dependance Born not of innocence but infantile avidity I let this mortal Frame enrage my heart and conquer me Is this the light I claim I want the World to see? Or this the salt He said He needed me to be?