Phavian Feldgrau
Cold, made up of ore and tin
Almost gone, logic has died for him.
Brainless Cry -
Mouths oiling over each order received,
Rusting faces ready to believe
Tarnishing gold shall return to the sky.
Speech that is bound to the praise he receives.
Fading faces, unsharpened and naïve
Take away what was begot from a lie.
We the people, we the power
Bear our brandished, wear our hate.
Though we have been mindless metal,
Clever chaos we create.
Take him to the edge, throw him over.
Now we have come to vanquish
Reclaim the light from the sun –
(True gold)
Rid us of pyrite and enlighten earth with free will.
Pieces of peace converge
Unmake all that’s made, finally end the façade
The time’s come to crack the surface,
Weld together,
Heat surround us,
Light, rush over now!
Cold made up of ore and tin
Cold, made up of death and sin-
Gone!
Silence beckons,
“Fall into gravity!
Fall into victory!”
Rushing over, pushing inward,
Crushing what is into what was.
