It's like we drank a brutal poison, and it scoured right through our veins. Our hearts are hard and empty now, and we have lost all sense of hope. It's like the sky is black as the earth, and all we breathe has drowned in dust. We see only hate wherever we look, so our blue eyes have turned to stone.
(Morning shouldn't ever have come to this - another fine day, dawning red. The earth itself has turned against you, and from its deepest heart rent your gardens wide. You fail to see: we walk beside you, holding the knife. We'll kill them all. We have but one heart left among us - a screaming shadow, run shaking to its end. I tell you, I swear, we'll kill them all.)
Here comes the sun. You've wanted this for oh, so long. They all came to throw your doors open wide, take you out into the light; but you'll remain here in this black room. You died half a day too soon. This cold and rotten fruit, this dry and bitter fruit, is all for you.
How you walk, so like the blind. How you speak, so like the deaf.
And how you died.
The sun is only an illusion, but it still hides away in shame. We'll vanish from here like smoke on the wind. We won't be seen ever again.
It was a prayer much like this one: useless and detached.
It was a day much like this one; we covered over your broken body, there on the hill.