This cold floor we know too well. hearts poisoned with pride. 
black blood dotting our warmth. 
ending our contentment. 
this place is a contorted altar. 
I must seek strength from somwhere, 
for I've reduced myself to nothing. we've been here one thousand times. 
cold idle hands, floor-welcomed knees. 
hello autumn, I need not your companionship.
doubtless I stand; laying my heart into the hands of eternity. 
revive me doctines! 
await the day, when all our blood will wash away. 
the world's balance I'm too familiar with; 
selfishness outweighs genorosity 
blindness produced by your own hands afront your face. 
lips bleeding with guilt. 
frightful little fiends. 
if these words mean nothing; than where is the conclusion?
lyricism aside, Christ is the deduction