The Burıal - Salt And Warmth

Born not of innocence but infantile avidity I let this mortal frame enrage
my heart and conquer me Is this the light I claim I want the world to see?
Or this the salt He said He needed me to be? The Pressure's building to a
boil on my tongue Festering, writhing still Festering, writhing 'til the
tension climaxes A delicate balance in a maelstrom of misery It seems that
solace is a fantasy and peace alludes my inmost being Only His heart
contains the will to hold so great a peace Still I pray I feel this
madness fades, I feel this madness fade Ensnaring thoughts slip through my
mind like poison Ophidian words drip from my lips in venomous wrath If I
could bridle this fire, if I could tame this spark But I know that it's
futile without Your intervention all I need is resignation to a greater
dependance Born not of innocence but infantile avidity I let this mortal
frame enrage my heart and conquer me Is this the light I claim I want the
world to see? Or this the salt He said He needed me to be?