The Leavening Rot

The stir of dawn, a calming embrace for the fire
(The Sun burns away at the rot)
A parasite on the soul, sickness of man
It gnawed its way, a discordant voice in the choir
(Speaking its will to all ears)
The venom of words injected, through hidden fangs

Wanderer of bleeding hands
Cast away the son of man
Pathbreaker by tongue and nail
Deliverer by song or force of hand