Secrets Of The Moon Miasma
Let them have their final martyrium
Let them come with spear and lance
Let them impale
When all is gone anyway
Let them come with a greater smile
When all is over anyway
Hail miasma
Reigning and raging and raining
Leaving reality behind
Everywhere
There once was a colour
In galaxies blinding
Giving them a chance to foresee
There once was a circle
Behaving like insects in webs
Possessed by will
Not dead yet
There once was a field
In a desolate nation
A field with space for millions to come
There once was a funeral
With a guidance to understand
