upset the gift

Written by: Jonathan Michael Conlon

Upset the gift and turn towards the name an angel spit against stone.
Forget the memory of an incredible center; held true to use, spent less of names.
So may cold slaughter beg torment this named gift.
To replace your safety lies the heartless and parasites, forget their memory.
Another soul waiting to fill the gift and burning forward, sends lift, stands against stone.
Forget the memory of terrible difference; felt you prove, soothe, crept close from shame.
So may cold slaughter beg torment this named gift.