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Scars Flown Proud
Faith and the Muse
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We are the inheritors; the evidence of heaven
Descendants of a legacy gone but not forgotten
We are the inheritors of the grand persuasion
Descendants of its masquerade; numb but not defeated
Welcome to the silent war, to the world we never hoped to gain
The great disguise wandering between two realms
One dead the other rarely dwells beyond our eyes
Lest we be sorely recognized
What little good intentions seem
But obviate the bloom of self esteem
We'll save our prayers
Inured to wounds from bleeding minds
Where wisdom dares not mix with time
Never fear; they'll age they'll change they'll disappear
In every dance no steps are placed
And every path mistakes are made
And if all paths lead but to the grave
Then let us dance along our way
Gliding from room to room all cast in celebrated gloom
With no where yet to rest our head
Waiting for a door to open from within and bring us home
Lest we possess our souls again
You are a wonder and I will sing your praise
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