The gods rot from their heaven.
The fiends lie, wearry, in their hell.
The atheist,
with the mortal flesh of God under his nails
and the words of truth in his mouth,
spread out amongst the masses.
To enlighten,
to prove,
to resolve what was
and has always been.
With the resolution comes chaos.
The world is not ready,
perhaps it will never be,
to accept what they thought to be their brithing womb,
is to be their forever, an endless tomb.
The flocks of sheep are held together,
with thred of polished, ignorance string.
The flock's wolf, in the robes of the shepard,
singles out the solitary black sheep,
amist the masses..
"Seek out, destroy, in the name of your god!
Ignore all that has been shaven into your hide.
Forget the laws that bide us togetherness.
That which we have written, and prayed for.
Forget peace, forget brotherhood; kill?
For the black sheep has sought to tear the grace from our God!"
It's not the glory of their Grace,
to purify all that is not alike them.
For the wolf fears,
that truth is showing,
And a threat to the tyrants power.