Ye That Seek Forgiveness
Ye that seek forgiveness,
Long forsaken in the ground,
Shuttered in forever,
With the spectres that surround,
Demons hard to sever,
And the shrieking wind the sound,
And such heartache to expound,
Tell me — what have ye found?
Ye that dwell in chasms,
Long bereft of godly light,
Wretchedness in spasms,
And removed from hallowed sight,
Courting hell’s phantasms,
And awakened by affright,
In the cataclysmal night,
Stripped of everything that’s bright.
Ye that tarry lonely,
Underneath the hanging bower,
Shadowed desolation,
At an unforgiving hour,
Galling ruination,
And a hunger to devour,
All the Philistines who cower,
That irreverently glower.
Ye that walk abysmal,
Underneath the silent seas,
Storming cataclysmal,
And enveloped in disease,
Enervation dismal,
And thy skin a ghostly freeze,
With the serpents at thy knees,
All thy sanity to seize.
Ye that go undaunted,
Unto Sheol fore to lie,
All thy malice vaunted,
And such anger to belie,
Petrified and taunted,
With damnation in the eye,
As the horrors fleetly fly,
With the lightning riding by,
Tell me — wouldst thou Christ deny?
