Septic Flesh Burning Phoenix
If you ever hear the song of a dying phoenix don't let sadness close your ears you may offend the secret face of nature It is not a mourning but a hymn. If you ever see the bright pyre strip the nightly creature from the chains you'll witness what the most can only envy the glorious coupling of the light with the dark Burning Phoenix rise Ash is what you leave to go up high The flaming bird knows the time when the astral gates are open time to fulfil its noble destiny it was born to fly Forever, with the burning legions of its kind. On wings of smoke they are singing Their calling is the calling of the free "Fly with us"
