Quiet drip from the prophet’s tongue A taste you are not meant to swallow You kneel for the man with the cracked halo He smiles with a mouth full of wormwood He tells you your sickness is borrowed So you give him your pulse like you should You drink from the cup he is holding But the water is black when it lands He speaks and your doubt starts dissolving While he measures your faith with his hands He says you will feel it soon (it comes, it comes) The tightening under the truth (breathe slow) Wormwood in the bloodstream Crawling through the fault lines Teaching you to trust pain Feeding on the soft mind Wormwood in the bloodstream Telling you to stay blind He chants in a language of fractures A script only fear understands You bend as the promise attacks you And carve out a place where you stand He marks every flaw on your surface Then claims he can cleanse what he finds But every “redemption” he offers Is another small cut to your spine He says you will feel it soon (it comes, it comes) Your vision will open wide (but only where he guides) Wormwood in the bloodstream Crawling through the fault lines Teaching you to trust pain Feeding on the soft mind Wormwood in the bloodstream Telling you to stay blind You keep calling him savior While he plants little poisons Naming them wisdom Calling them light But truth is a tremor Not a sermon And you are shaking for the wrong god tonight Wormwood in the bloodstream Quiet in the dark now Waiting for the next soul Ready with the same vow Wormwood in the bloodstream Are you waking up now (are you waking) (are you waking up)
