40 Days (Movement I - The Hunger)

Forty mornings, The salt has left my skin. I know the shape Of turning stone to bread. My tongue remembers every empty hour, My hands can measure hunger by the grain. The body's loud when every nerve is listening, The silence answers nothing back again. One word The climb would simply disappear. One word No reason left to persevere. The desert never bargains twice; Every mile is paid in appetite. What's a man who feeds the flesh alone, While starving what he knows he must become? I'll bear the ache before I buy relief. Better this hunger Than surrender bought so cheap. Day thirty-one, the joints begin protesting, The body's burning through what once was mine. Blood dries hard across a split lip's edge; The cost is written underneath the skin. I've counted every argument for ending. I've heard them all rehearsed inside my head. One word Could make this wilderness a table... One word But nothing comes for free. What's a man who feeds the flesh alone, While starving what he knows he must become? I'll bear the ache before I buy relief. Better this hunger Than surrender bought so cheap. Maybe bread was never what was offered. Maybe appetite was just the door. Every empty place keeps asking who I'll be When nothing answers anymore. What's a man who feeds the flesh alone, While starving what he knows he must become? I'll bear the ache I'll bear the cost. Better this hunger Than the man I'd leave behind. Forty days The stone Stays stone Forty days The stone Stays stone Stays stone Stays stone There's a ledge that only opens when they're watching Let's see what falling proves. It's strange It's strange Silence is easy Being seen Changes everything