False Build

The wandering stranger assaults you with guilt, not with guile
The spoken word, spurious. It likely wouldn’t push one to sway
With doubtful experience, it plotted us a path that wound back again
The halls are cavernous and twist the sound as bait
Quickly drawn away, open jaw. Dig the hook inside while we bray
Now the horns' blows have carried away and we’re remorseful for the call
When the very life of you is swept away and reverent then what worth have you?
The air we breathe is the air we’ll be bellowing. How loud claps the storm?
What fury will we swallow away?