Torn

Build your walls high in promise
For sand and flesh is for termites
Your dark soul in turmoil
A mouth curls escape smiles
Each word a hollow cry
Each cry a fragile lie
Longing for the end to feel the light
Longing for the set to rest tired eyes
Who shall hear,shall hide you?
You forsaken your holiest caves
May heavens taste of your plight
Whispers torn to the divine.