Limbo Conditions

What time is it?

Lost in endless space between death and this

I think I was awake when rapture came

A distant snarl said “scorch this fucking place”

Or maybe rain?

I think I slept when rapture came to choke us

I swear, they heard us sing with perfect pitch, feathered wings

I did not say anything, anything

Speaker with no words, with no outlet

It would tear me apart if I wasn’t stained on this blood-soaked prayer necklace

No words

No outlet

No map

No atlas

They taught us god’s will

I found there is endless choice, endless slants

But not enough second chances

Enough second chances

Is it too late to choose a fucking side?

Give another try

Forgiveness for all the spared lives

A trade of modesty from bloodlust zealot pageantry

Or wavering faith from deistic apathy

Cynic with no map, with no atlas

It would tear me apart

Prophets, trinkets, all just a juxtaposition of peace

Of violent stains on this blood-soaked prayer necklace

No words

No outlet

No map

No atlas

Their death toll

Assurance of god

I’m not sure if this is heaven

What if we’d just tried to nod out and believe it?

Second time around?

Not enough second chances

I like this vagrancy

Take my life

It can’t be so bad when you don’t have a heart

Heart

Theological nomad with no say, with no part

You can call me a fucking cynic with no map, no outlet

Yeah, it’d tear me apart

Tear me apart if I wasn’t stained on this blood-soaked prayer necklace

Greet me in this prison

Serve with oblivious conviction

I’ll ask you then

Again and again

What time is it?

Lost in endless space between death and this