A Statue of Dirt

I want to see my blood.

I want to see it run.
My Saviour is dying in this scene.
Overdramatic words deceive the best of us.
Intricate, charged melodies.
Taste this brick wall.
If only you knew.
The beautiful secret profanities.
Lust lies beneath a thin veil.

Hidden oaths within an objective understanding.
You could be my kindred spirit.
You could be the one I ache for.
You are the dirt.

And the fury.
You are the way to lead them.
You could be the one that destroys the past.
And crushes this into the ground.