The Gift, The Curse, and The Fate Lyrics – Belly

[Verse]
Peace be upon you, don’t let peace be a pawn used
A black rose that only grows to produce thrones made of thorns
For false kings void of roots, family trees branching out to low-hanging poisonous fruit
Mirages of olive branches that never extend to truth
Lining the Orwellian orchard of forgotten souls
And martyred youth, generations of teardrops watering trees that once grew
Blood running like scarlet rivers, flooding and seeping through the crust
Deeper and deeper, reaching the core and burning, turning into the holiest dust
Vessel tattered, but the spirit untouched
Metal birds will eventually rust, sunbirds die willingly at the hands of the unjust
Just to become firebirds soaring once more above us
Reduced to rubble and labeled dirt, praying under birds of prey
Sees waiting for roots to take in the decaying flesh of unsculpted clay
Proverbial veins wrapping around fractured shoulder blades
Willing to carry the weight of the gift, the curse, and the fate