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
