| On the marble cliffs above the waves
|
| Beneath the rising inferno of history
|
| Exiled in the quickening twilight of salvation
|
| Awake to the light of a colder consciousness
|
| The decay and renewal of the blood of promise
|
| A faith without meaning?
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| A discipline without justification?
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| Devoid of the fear of nothingness
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| Being born of nothingness
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| The great immaculate inhuman pulse
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| Behind the teeming carcass of false life
|
| On the marble cliffs above the waves
|
| Beneath the devouring inferno of history
|
| Exiled in the threatening twilight of salvation
|
| A hero turned traitor
|
| A traitor turned hero
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| The assassin turned saint
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| Our patron saint of murder
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| Were these the last disciples of the lords of victory
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| Bound and gagged on the whirling horns of destiny
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| Gathering like ghosts at the broken altars of life
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| To prey where vermin have carried the plague?
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| Treachery and honur
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| Like the double blade of life itself
|
| Passing with the sun from the shadows of the world
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| To fall to earth like so many shattered stars
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| The burnt out and petrified tears of eternity
|
| On the marble cliffs above the waves
|
| Beneath the dying inferno of history
|
| Exiled in the fleeting twilight of salvation
|
| Hailing the light of the colder consciousness
|
| The renewal and the decay of the blood of promise |