There’s violence in these wanton words of black
There’s violence in the little lies and cracks
There’s violence in the fire spitting sparks
There’s violence where the light shines up the dark
There’s violence where my fingers trace your chin
There’s violence where our urges seethe within
There’s violence in the beauty of the earth
There’s violence in a blizzard giving birth
There’s violence in a whirlwind-gentle breeze
There’s violence as the carpet meets your knees
There’s violence in the prayer for love and cushion
There’s violence in the way you spell devotion
There’s violence in the lantern-light at dawn
There’s violence where the rook knocks down the pawn
There’s violence as hoodman swings a blade
There’s violence in the sharpened ace of spades
There’s violence in your weak-willed, coward mind
There’s violence in mine
There’s violence in the crushing dregs of space
Of brutal dark and grace beside our grace
There’s violence in the sun-shined, moon-lit void
We seek the truth through heads long-brimmed with pyoid
No answers here, none left but violent scenes
The violence here is stuck inside our genes
We fight to live, and we live like machines
The anima speaks through begotten, raging pyres
Lowly sects of long-forgot desires
To fuck and breed, to kill and bleed
To attach and relapse and attach and plead
Love is a creed, we all are the center
The violence ingrained becomes an old mentor
Anima, soul inside of our soul
I beg you to come, I plead you to go
There’s violence there, that we all know