Falling from "grace", from the crumbling halls of the charlatan hordes
Feathers burning to ashes as I sear my wings to quicken the fall
Rising again from sulphur plains to your six feet under realm
Grim and foul beneath my mask of insignificance
Contempt contaminates all of my being
Sheltered by chaos in a carcass world still breathing
What defines the beast? The hunter or the hunted?
You've locked the cage and thrown the key
But you're standing on the wrong side of the bars
Now suffer the pain of truth
Blasphemy lucidity
Malignancy humanity
Brutishness our heritage
Cocytus our mother earth
Spare me of your obsolete words, do I preach for thee?
Ask of me no guidance for none was given me
Reverence may still exist but only for the mindful few
Who tame the beast and burn the cross of ever-enslaving grace!