Barrens of nowhere land
The scars of a lone man
A once powerful ship crumbles from the rust
Skeletons that wilt to dust
Sands shift on the plain
As the wind stirs up the memories of mine
I hear whispers

Searching through decaying ruins
Digging for spiritual druids
Fragments of emotional atrocities
Concealing my hypocrisies
On the blazing desert sun
Glares down on the deeds
That I have done

As sweat drips from my face, feel my skin start to crawl
I catch a glimpse of the Ghost of fallen grace

Making my way across this wasteland of tombs
Right were the road to hell passes through
I'm coming home
And then I come to the place where God's Mercy is borrowed
Entranced by the billowing smoke from the burning bridge of sorrow

Inscription on the Guardian's stone
This reads: Poet, you've come home
As tears trace lines on my face
Succumbing to the Ghost of fallen grace