The Cure

Breathe in the vapours pure
Of aspirations and intentions pure
Let it take root, let it sprout
Exhale and feel it turn you inside out
Hearken, brothers bold
And remember the battles lost — some won
Still the crooked nail of desperation
Keeps knocking on your skull
We longed to reach the stars
And strived for the eternal fire
Prometheus, please watch over us
In our hour long since grown cold
Hearken, brothers bold
And remember the battles lost — some won
Stand vigil for those now gone
Keep dreaming of salvation
Never to come
Forget all the atonement
Keep reaching towards the cure
The searing fire that cleanses
It snares, entices, and lures
Embrace this terminal fever
The one brought up with such care
Turn the key of deliverance
Plunge down the finger that brands you a god