Beyond the Pale - The Dear Hunter

Reanimated, I awake, awaiting

Mistakes I shouldn’t make, born of bonds

I wouldn’t place, had I the choice

On loyal limbs that dance these melodies from your voice

If you demand I fall

How will I evolve beyond the pale of your holy scrawl?

It begs the question of intent to know

Or just observe your sycophants' deference

Have we inherited the flaws of fumbling gods

Too small to stumble on their own, who never grow

If you demand we fall

How will we evolve beyond the pale of your holy sprawl?

What do you say to the suppliant ewe

Suffering for little more than show?

What will you find as you blindly grind

The gears of your invention to a halt?

What better way to know the places you won’t go

Than recognizing where we haven’t been?

Finding our faults lie, that none can answer why

We ever moved from where we began

Still standing still

Bent to your will

Flawed like you