The Fevered Circle

At The Gates

Each day a mournful pity

Life looks upon you with scorn

Hopes flee, visions elude

As your feeble breath is turn



Six sinister thorns of beaty

The claws of the nondivine

Our right to breathe

Our right to bleed

Forever denied



What some seek in the depths of the unknown

Need not be sought so far

The truth of what we are



Each day a fevered circle

Life looks upon youwith scorn

Six sinister claws of darkness

Strip your flesh to the bone