Dazed, fazed and besieged with arrows
Wounded with invisible scars
Which pierce deep into the marrow
In haziness and eyes like stars
Clothed in garment of familiar pity
Waiting for the time
When the pain and sonority
All in the clime
To a palace in the ground
Hammered through a wooden skin
Like lifeless rivers abound
Close to the departed kins
So when he leaves this drenched castle of air
For the comfort of mother earth
Bury him inside a box of thorns.

Nice one, bruh