| The Fallen Host:
|
| The pit! |
| It breaths! |
| revive!
|
| Bronchial! |
| grow limbs! |
| augment!
|
| Life! |
| endure! |
| enamor!
|
| Life! |
| endure! |
| enamor!
|
| Ghost flesh, mortar truth
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| Scaffold built of dust coalescent
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| Substance formed of our own volition
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| Let the rings arrange! |
| stone substratum!
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| The conical it lifts atop our diligence
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| Crescent edifice, upon which stands our creed
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| Pile the sediment, enraptured sentiment
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| We the chisel, carve the lodestone
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| We the pestle, empty receptacles
|
| Anvils chime out, clenched fists molten
|
| Girders will smelt under caelum breath
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| Granite serenade tolls with resonance
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| The larynx of the earth, tintinabulate
|
| Cathedral serenade, nave reverberate
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| The commencement of the climb:
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| Ever upwards so we will
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| With treaty in hand, our voices shrill
|
| Atop our beacon tower
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| Our countenance of spires
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| Climb high with litany, make haste our mark indelible!
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| Our host forsaken!
|
| Patriarch intolerable one should not rule over all
|
| Our host forsaken!
|
| Reward our petulance, we will not go quietly
|
| Our host forsaken!
|
| Hand over hand, ascension, we reach the summit of our rage
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| Grey flanks
|
| Seamless shards
|
| Incorporate, proliferate
|
| Grow this pinnacle of stone
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| Our cold house, our exile home! |