Thrice - That Hideous Strength

Oh that I could scream.
And the world would stop and listen,
And these scars could speak in volume.
But who has ears to hear.
Or eyes to see.
Again I scream.

But my voice is buried in an unearthly silence.
Like in nightmares when ghost steal your breath.

I pray that power be not in my words
But in truth that supercedes the mind of man.
In our dead hope and our blind faith in means
That look to justify the ends.

I feel a presence in the room.
I feel cold fingers close around my neck.
Without you I am lost.

Let my eyes not fail with looking upward.