| Rain, the gift of our forbidden god
|
| Grants no compassion, no humility
|
| Our souls filled with a burning wrath
|
| And the promise of our divinity
|
| But a silent voice now weeps within
|
| It prays; |
| forgiveness for our sins
|
| For our lands left ravaged in our wake…
|
| And so I stand
|
| My heart filled with hate for eternity
|
| And so I stand
|
| My soul still denies my mortality
|
| And so I shall fall
|
| Alone and bound to envy all
|
| I did not understand
|
| And I feel pain, that solace of a tainted conscience
|
| It grants a glimpse of resentful reality:
|
| Our God, long since fallen
|
| A lost path, a lie of divinity
|
| And I see it die
|
| I hear it weep
|
| In waters deep
|
| And last, I stand
|
| As the final beacon of man
|
| Through remorse, through the shame
|
| The guilt of aeons in my name
|
| The grief of aeons
|
| That rends apart the heart
|
| The art of man perfected
|
| And pain fades away
|
| A castaway I am to stay
|
| In that name I became what nature abhors
|
| In vain I now raise my fist against it all
|
| But I see, through the eyes of a storm, afar
|
| A father’s scorn, a mother’s call
|
| And I’m filled with reverence as I fall
|
| The temple trembled as time did stall
|
| Its last keeper becomes one with the stars
|
| A grave; |
| the peace for the restless
|
| At last, I stand
|
| The pitch-blakc rain can’t cleanse
|
| My broken blood-stained hands
|
| And last, I fall
|
| And see it all… |