Ghost Of Fallen Grace

Barrens of nowhere land

The scars of a lone man

A once powerful ship crumbles from the rust

Skeletons that wilt to dust

Sands shift on the plain

As the wind stirs up the memories of mine

I hear whispers

Searching through decaying ruins

Digging for spiritual druids

Fragments of emotional atrocities

Concealing my hypocrisies

On the blazing desert sun

Glares down on the deeds

That I have done

As sweat drips from my face, feel my skin start to crawl

I catch a glimpse of the Ghost of fallen grace

Making my way across this wasteland of tombs

Right were the road to hell passes through

I'm coming home

And then I come to the place where God's Mercy is borrowed

Entranced by the billowing smoke from the burning bridge of sorrow

Inscription on the Guardian's stone

This reads: Poet, you've come home

As tears trace lines on my face

Succumbing to the Ghost of fallen grace