According to creators bare hands closed our eyes,
too weak the most of my tools to break these chains of lies.
Death will show an option, the blackend gate is near.
A tempting smell of refuge for we know hell is here.
Hell is here.
Realize the truth, now here is just a loan.
It's not a test of power to question die unknown.
We will not be bedded, nor smashed into the grave,
into the depths of darkness, in minds with all we have.
Decades of Falling, sensing the wandering shades.
No need for a sight for the abscence of descendants.
Empires fall ignoring their calls.
You ask why children die, so unguilty and pure.
Even if they cry that one thing is for sure:
These little human beings, exploitable and flesh,
will also burn to ashes, fertalizing cash.
A train-blasted schoolbus wracks my brain,
all answers pass away.
Forgotten rationality assuring my insanity.
When every question leads to hell
and each thought far beyond.
You possess one soul to bond, they die to choose as well.
The illuminated know a decision-rested life.
So be sure when you die to know both friend and foe