The Feral Grief

[Intro, spoken word, no music] They left me here, Somewhere below the reach of light, where the air stinks of old wounds and moss and rot, I count the drips from the ceiling, one for every dream broken, every name I can’t remember now. My children’s laughter, My wife’s singing, My father’s old stories, All torn from me, ripped out like my nails, ground into mud and bone and blood. I try to pray, but the words don’t work down here. The gods don’t listen to rats and broken things. What did I do to earn this? Why did you pick me, you monsters in men’s skin? You filth who wear my family’s faces as trophies and laugh. There is nothing left of me. Not man, not beast, not soul. *sounds of sickness* I want it to end. I want out. But even now, even now, I can’t lift my hand. My body is a ruin. My hope, a drowned thing. *fever dream, dying* Wake up! [Verse 1: “The Reaping of Man”] I awoke to the iron taste of vengeance Ash in my veins, lightning in my bones You thought me spent— But man is not so easily buried My wounds are sermons, my scars are scripture You tore the world from me So now I become the world’s ender No angels to call me brother No devils left to chain my rage I am the howl beneath the thunder The hunger that outlives the grave I walk on splintered wrists and shattered will Torn lips chanting your names, one by one You murdered hope, so I wear your fear Like a crown, like armor, like blood Each step is a dirge for the lost Each breath, a curse to damn the wicked I will not be your martyr I am not your lamb I am what you made I am what you cannot kill I am the last word in your horror story And you— Are already forgotten [Chorus: “More Than Gods, More Than Demons”] I do not kneel. I do not pray. I do not beg for mercy. There is no mercy here. Hear my warcry, shatter the sky Tremble, oh heavens, quake, you depths below For man has come— And all your sins Are mine to reap [Bridge: “Judgment Unforgiven”] Not blessed, not cursed, But chosen by the void Not holy, not damned, But made to destroy Let the rivers run red Let the wicked choke on their own screams I am all who have suffered I am every voice you silenced I am vengeance, I am ruin, I am man— And you will know my name