Ghost of Fallen Grace

Barrens of nowhere land

The scars of a lone man

A once powerful ship crumbles from the rust

Skeletons that wilt to dust

Sands shift on the plain

As the wind stirs up the memories of mine

I hear whispers

Searching through decaying ruins

Digging for spiritual druids

Fragments of emotional atrocities

Concealing my hypocrisies

On the blazing desert sun

Glares down on the deeds

That I have done

As sweat drips from my face, feel my skin start to crawl

I catch a glimpse of the Ghost of fallen grace

Making my way across this wasteland of tombs

Right were the road to hell passes through

I'm coming home

And then I come to the place where God's Mercy is borrowed

Entranced by the billowing smoke from the burning bridge of sorrow

Inscription on the Guardian's stone

This reads "Poet, you've come home"

As tears trace lines on my face

Succumbing to the Ghost of fallen grace