Contemplation

The menacing lights speak to him 
Guidance no longer the subject 
Mundane becomes the rule of tongue 
Where must the casted travel 
May peace wash sin of a lost soul 
Or will distress be this mans only comfort 

Does fire still hurt 
Will it just burn away memories 
Avoiding the flesh 
Maybe a guide decides 
But also your own personal echoes 
Whatever allows silence to fill his lost ears