Rise
The whispering winds, they bear secrets, and deep in our veins we grieve
The days are delusion, the nights stretch into abyss
And sometimes, I feel I can hear
From behind a curtain of velvet, draped in smoke, whispers demand: Let it be done
Decrees from furtive gods, history defeated, the trembling of earth: Let it be done
Bred like beasts, we may not ascend, captive cognition
Deus ex machina, the slyest interference
All they ask is unwavering ignorance, a sacrifice to dominance
We cry to our savior, as fate seals with wax: Samael, open your book
But the marionette cannot stir alone
And so it goes
The meek and the strong meet the same fate, all is forgotten and their words become flesh
Their sun remains atop the sky eternally; it shall never set upon the necromancion age
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
