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There is this hunger, this famine

for you flesh and your blood

for the world torn asunder

and the utter deconstruction

Into the pieces and fragments

of its living and pulsating core

so it may rust in you sight

drag them all into thy light

And scatter the fragments

upon the ruins and corpses

There is this need, this craving

to follow the spiral

that dark and silent noise

of the perpetual driller

That dips itself into the mud

of this structure of fear

Digging and diving

making straight the paths of the Lord

To fall beneath the known

To hear the soundless voice

That beckons far beyond

the reasons of the world

In the desert of silence and cold

of the absence of motion and will

Stands a tower, a beacon

To light the path of solitude

This hunger, this holy strife

For your bread and your wine

For a blessing that shatters

Leaving the world in utter silence

And in graves and tombs

Of this wet and cold earth

so it may decay in your embrace

cutting all before it sprouts

Tongues of fire

erode the slumber

To walk under the light

That shines from the source unknown

On this road sown with thorns

Following the nameless call

From the shreds and ruins

Of the world set ablaze

The Silence beckons demanding:

(make) straight the paths of the Lord