Conducting From The Grave Burdens Of A Dying World
The land now cast into darkness, a riptide of plagues in
its wake. Here is your purity in our childrens hands.
Empty eye sockets reflect of burnt out stars and hollow
graves. Everything becomes nothing sooner or later. Its
when the piece doesn't fit that all hell breaks loose.
Your legends crumble beginning with their foundations.
The wind carries their pleas to our ears. A society on
broken knees screaming to a god who doesn't care. Build
and build we'll bury the past before day. You've jumped
in too soon and broken your neck. Exile is the only
breath you'll catch around here. Time is running out. The
weight is becoming unbearable. If only their was a way to
go back, reverse the damage and heal the broken. Maybe
then the tables will turn and the victims will control
the wrath. Every structure for miles is collapsing,
leaving them to pick up the pieces. Pull back the sky,
let the sun flourish. Blind eyes haven't seen dead stars
in decades. Bring the flood. Wash away every impurity.
