Act 3 from Advent by Luther Kane

|ACT III|
There is only darkness in my eyes, and the dirt that fills my lungs.
The sky lives bright inside my mind, but no life blooms from my bones.
I wish not to be an artifact of wretchedness.
So, I'm reaching for your pen to inscribe your will in my flesh.
To convey this life of mine to heights.
Do not leave me here to rot tonight.
I know that, somewhere down the line, I lost my precious sight.
I buried my name beneath the sand, and I gave up my light.
Are you sure of your independence, or are you aware of the singular thread weaving it's way through our plane of existence?
My a drifted children, why be mystified and engulfed by the things that cause our stars to lose their light?
&The false comfort you create for yourself will hold back your ability to rise.
Return to the plot.
The fouls of the air may lodge under the shadow of it.
There you can be cleansed of all of your impurities, and from all your idols.
Infamous one, come home

• Converge
• Every Time I Die
• Experimental
• Noise
• Norma Jean
• The Chariot
• Shreveport