Thorns of Ivy - From Grace to Tragedy

Deepest dark dreams leak through the phantasmagorian haze
a pearl of condensed fear bedews her restless face
those dreams that tell of crippled voices
they always will return
to torture, to remind
to rage forth and to burn

fools.. yet fools they are
and their vanity seals the coming of the other savior
so dulled are their senses
but whom will they serve
when the king of jews once fades..?

so I sit and linger in the forests and on the glades
..and I dream of the crippled voices
words of pure sadness
reach my ear to exile me into searing madness

the infant that they once adored
became one with their frenzy
extolling the insidious lord

Hypocrite cloaked with a bloodstained halo

You told of the bliss
The realm of heart and no dismiss
nailed to her flesh by mans insistence
and no chorals, no praises
await thee christian prince

thy reign finally ends

You just stare and bleed
and no comforting words leave thy lips..
The soil awakens from endless slumber
and still thy slaves rape her with bliss
as earth shatters in furious wrath
they find themselves in awe of the abyss

it is the oldest fever
that comes from the depths of this endless breach
to cleanse the world of her torturing memories
wounded, mangled
an image of god, once blind, now can see..

the repercussion of their spiteful deeds
and a shepherd without words to lead
They will remain for all eternity
on the brink from grace to tragedy