THE DEADLY SINS SERIES:
LUST. PRIDE. ENVY. WRATH. SLOTH. GREED. GLUTTONY.
LUST
The Lust Series has three main characters: the Wolf, the Moon, and the narrator. In the Overture, the narrator gives an overview of the events to come and relationship between the characters. The story begins with the Wolf plotting his attack on the Moon; he is the predator and she is the unsuspecting prey. In the Intermezzo the narrator tries to bring the man out of the Wolf and help him regain some semblence of humanity. With this task underhand we find it immediately threatened by the Moon; she becomes the predator and he is the resistent prey. Finally, the Imposter leaves us with a man in control of his identity and reflecting on life in general.
THE OVERTURE:

And so they walked, unaware of the other’s blood mixing with theirs. The open wounds that they both shared bound them together: vice and snare.

A villain biding time inside his skin. A sirenic maiden clawing to get in. Such tragic lovers betrothed in sin. And so they walked, hand in hand.

Oh Wolf, your days are marked with bloodshed and your nights are plagued with moonlit beds. This Moon, you want to call a lover is just another means to an end.

She warmed his heart and kissed his cheek; it’s funny how Beauty’s just as ugly as the Beast. A dyad built on wants and needs, they dare not pause but rather gather speed.

Their fingers lock to stave off shame. With hands kept busy who can point the blame? A voice trembles as one proclaimsWhat have I done? Oh God, how I’ve changed!”.

Oh Wolf, your days are marked with bloodshed and your nights are plagued with moonlit beds. This Moon, you want to call a lover is just another means to your end.

THE WOLF:
Oh Beautiful, I could show you the ugly side of men. I could paint you a picture with the most vibrant sins. Oh, I could corrupt your soul and rape your innocence. Oh Beautiful, we could make such a masterpiece.

Under the sufferance of my gaze she breaks. Oh, my willing victim, she thinks this is innocent. Oh Moon, I’ll call you a temptress. Now I’m hungry for the flesh she wears so well.

There are Werewolves beneath our skin. There are monsters lurking within. Run for cover. Hide your women and children and pray to God for some sort of redemption ‘cause we can’t change on our own.

Take my hand. Ignore the stains. It’s just another girl’s remains. Soon, my dear, you’ll share the same fate. A sense of guilt, a hint of shame, grace the face of this predator (concerning prey). A conscious grows; a heart beats within my destructive frame.

Oh God, why am I cursed this way? Put a silver bullet in my brain!. Oh Beautiful, please stay away. Change my ways, change my horrid ways!

THE INTERMEZZO:
Still. Be Still. Time will move without you. Hold your breath; let nothing move within you.

Your head is searching for something to fill your heart. Did you find what you’re looking for?

Now your cries and howls at the moon seem so foolish. Calm your wild thoughts and steady your wicked tongue.

You’re better than before. Let silence fill your heart. Don’t listen to your own voice. Be still and calm. In silence you will find your Hallelujah. Sing hallelujah. It’s done.

THE MOON:
A single glance can kill a man, but with a body like that I welcome death. Oh Succubus, you’ll be my end; both devil-sent and corruptive.
I’ll take refuge in her arms, the cheapest house of rest. Oh, but her lips ,so red, are stained with the blood of a thousand men.

Oh Moon, you rip the beast from me like you sway the waves of the sea. I’ll break your hold on me.

Day slips to night. The moon comes alive; she calls to me. Curves, lips, and eyes illuminate the sky; she covers me. I beg, eclipse her from my sight. Her caustic glow will cost [me] my life. I pray that God will shield the Devil from my eyes. The wolf cannot survive.

She’s casting looks and shrouding bait in a smile both innocent and chaste. She’s got a siren song and motives paved with supple skin and shallow graves.
I’ll tear my clothes, howl at the moon, and adulate a well dressed tomb. I’ll chart her thighs and plot my course. I, Wolf, have no remorse.

Oh Moon, you rip the beast from me like you hold sway over the waves of the sea. But I’ll break your hold on me.

THE IMPOSTER:
Sing with joy like a host of sweet heavenly voices. Mourn no more! I’ll watch from above as you bury your love with dolor and alcohol. I am sick of swallowing knives and digging shallow graves. Why? O’, my God, why do they still cry?

In the streets the people are gathering. The death march moves on, the requiem has begun. The people weep, and they mourn. They gnash their teeth with bottles in their hands. But I can rejoice knowing I live. The imposter is dead.

From up here, they hide fear in the sounds of safety. Their eyes are dead. Oh, my God, have you left? Have you crept away from me? There had better be a reason for this mess. O’ Love, O’ Flesh, I can save only the best.

The man sees the moon and he becomes a monster. The wolf licks his lips as he devours the flesh of another. I hid behind gentle eyes; I was an imposter. Kill the wolf, and black out the sky. Tonight we die, but we’ll live forever.

 
PRIDE
The Pride saga includes four characters: The Judge, King Hubris, God, and a narrator . In the story the Judge witnesses Hubris putting himself as an equal with God. In turn, the Judge, believing he is being righteous, takes it upon himself to be God's vengeance. The first song, Pride Wrought, is where the Judge witnesses the sin and begins plotting his "godly" justice. The Judgement Of is when the Judge puts his plans in motion and Hubris finds himself victim of what seems to be an unprovoked crime. Finally, in the third song, Hubris, the King, we see the resolve in Hubris.
 
PRIDE WROUGHT:
His castle, built on shifting sand, it shivers and shakes but still stands.
So I will bring a storm to his door. Stone by stone it'll slip from shore.

I know your name. It is Arrogance.

Will your throne become my song? Will your anthem speak of your downfall?
I can't sleep anymore so I will become the hands of God
and I will destroy you.

I made the earth. I made the sky. I alone will judge mankind.
Oh, my child, leave your anger; return to me.

Sing my praises. Sing out to me.

Note by note you pen a melody free from any harmony;
an egocentric symphony wrought with pride and selfish beats.
Your castle walls stand Oh, so tall, petitioning for bended knee.
But Oh, my God, let him fall!

Why should the wicked be worshipped as if they're kings?
When will the first be last? When is the reckoning!
Where is the justice?
How can this man be so blinded by 'godliness'?

From pride stems all sin.
A seed among the briers, you've grown nasty thorns.
Liar! Take him away!
Why should you say what you believe?

God, hear my plea. Is it time for me
to be your jealousy and wrath?

Why should the wicked be worshipped as if they're kings?
When will the first be last? When is the reckoning?
Where is the justice?
Why should the wicked be worshipped as if they're kings?

THE JUDGEMENT OF:

Tonight I'll lay you amidst the dirt
and cover your body with precious earth.
Your heart will shake the ground I walk
till the air grows thin and the beating stops.
This story has no tell-tale pulse,
just a grave I filled beneath these rocks.
And as your flesh rots
your body will do more in death than a life forgot.

You can feed the worms. You can nourish the earth
as your bones make homes amongst the dirt.
I'll bury you alive with your tongue of fire,
setting flame to a vast forest of lies.
You've corrupted minds trying to equal God
and now you will pay for your crimes.
I will be your judge. I will be your demise.
With God as my witness, you'll die.

We bend at the knee and wage war through our teeth as our lips sing 'Hallelujah'. Our pride is our destruction.

Oh Judge, save your breath.
Let your tongue rest behind ivory gates and wicked flesh.
What crimes have led to this?
I deserve far more than a dirty grave and a peasant's death.
Now get on your knees and beg forgiveness!

We are Pharisees and self-proclaimed majesty. We build Kingdoms from rotten flesh and bone. Our pride is our destruction.

HUBRIS, THE KING:
With open arms you take me whole.
You take my failures and bear my broken soul.
But I hold my pride ever so close.
I pray you teach me how to let it go.

And I will be clean again; unsullied by the greed of men.
I will be clean again. I will be clean.

If I am fashioned in the image of God Almighty
then why am I so ugly?
Our wicked hearts seek only to keep our bodies alive.
I pray it chokes on the selfish beat and dies.

I will be clean again. Step from the grave, wash the dirt from my hands.
I will be clean again. I will be clean.

We will live above our heads. We will find heaven! We will live.

 
ENVY
The Envy saga is written from the perspective of two inanimate objects: a piece of dirt and a leaf. The dirt admires the mighty mountain and hopes to one day be as powerful and monumental. The leaf has a jealous envy towards the power of the breeze and its ability to take ransom and disrupt. The saga ends with a reflection on erosion and the grand scheme of life by a narrator.
DIRT ENVIES MOUNTAINS:
He stands so proud above the trees, like royalty
crowned with golden sun and silken cloud,
his shadow clothes the common ground.
I have been watching empires fall to the breeze.

Rip out your eyes and stick them in these open sockets.
A brand new sight; through your eyes it all seems so bright.

Recast this dirt as stone with blue blood and solid bone;
nothing can move this mountain I've become.
I have been watching empires fall from the earth and form kingdoms.

I'll stand so proud above the trees and take my place among the mountains and history.
Someday I will be greater than just dirt longing
to break the skyline
and embrace the mountain I have inside.

Rip out your eyes and give me sight!
I'm slowly slipping into your skin, I'm seeping in.
I'll be alive when I have been, when I become my mountain.

Oh God, make me a mountain! I'm leaving all the downtrodden!

WHILE EMPIRES FALL:
Sleep. The breeze is still and I can sleep
in the arms of friends and family.
The earth begins to breathe, moving fragile me.
The trees begin to heave and I am shaken from my mother's arms.

We, we all, are leaves floating helplessly.
We, we all, are leaves captured by a breeze.

Please, release me from your wind-lock arms.
Oh how you abuse your staggering charm.
I am held ransom by the mighty air,
It's so unfair to be so weak and yearning to be free; a jealous envy grips tight over me.

And we all stand in the face of God,
but when we live, we live for only us.
And we will stand in the face of God,
and shed our limb, let the wind take us...

TO A BREEZE:
Hey, we are changing and wearing away.
We are shifting slowly
till the Earth will have no face, and you have taken the best part of me away.

We hid our hearts beneath the dirt and tried just to walk away
from pretty tombs, and ugly truths, to be like you...I hate it!

Hey, we are changing and slipping away;
we are shifting slowly,
The mountains are worn ( away) by dirt
and the wind that sweeps across our face...the mighty will fade.