Quote image editor
“Golden bars make no less a prison than a coffin on a hill. And in caged reformation, one wanders aimless still. The rafters now a recollection of sacred suppression. How the morning dawn strikes mourning confession. Now Death yields a harvest of the living masses. We walk toward its path no earthly power surpasses.” — Craig Froman
Golden bars make no less a prison
than a coffin on a hill.
And in caged reformation,
one wanders aimless still.
The rafters now a recollection
of sacred suppression.
How the morning dawn
strikes mourning confession.
Now Death yields a harvest
of the living masses.
We walk toward its path
no earthly power surpasses.