Ashes of a clover wither away
Spots of grey on the clear sky
Of annyanmous kind, an unclear mind
The cynical ways of a wvyren wave

Abandoned my sentry
Darting through fields of green
Elysium to dust as the titans dremt
The gods, slowly sedated and dazed to sleep

Entire valleys in abominable lull
Spreding the vastness of infernally infamous creep

Slaughtered souls grieve autumns pass
On chain heart machines fading to black
Fearing the silent enigma before the sstorm
'Into the will of god' - an atheist prays

Cryt de-ciphered to animate death
A perfect lance against a perfect shield
Proved shit against a sea of grim
A procrustean fate bestowed all yeild

From the stentch of demented angels
We rise to stand our stance
With a broken scythe
A broken fist
A broken god
A broken self
An unmisted hope for a lost dwell

At a distance a glimmer of fate
Yet so close a purple haze! ! !