Under a serving sun
Among the destitute wastes
Spires rise to greet the heavens
A temple to their gods
Such effort used
To create such structures
An attempt to justify existence
And contemplate their gods

Abandoned or just forgotten
Lost or just void

A waste of precious resources
An avid loss of life
Such glamour obtained
From an engineered feat

Faith, sublime, corrupted
A play on their beliefs
Fate, resentment, power
He who holds god holds all

Submitted servants of kings
Forced to do their bidding
Sculpt monoliths from dirt
To appease the sacred scrolls

Enthralled in the notion of a higher place
A better place, where one can touch reality

The spires that grasp the clouds above
Extend far into the skies
Huge pyramids and parthenons
A tribute to their toll
A place of sacred worship
A ground for vicious sacrifice
A bleeding pool from which
Their deities can drink

Faith, sublime, corrupted
A play on their beliefs
Fate, resentment, power
He who holds god holds all

Enthralled in the notion of a higher place
A better place, where one can touch reality
Enchanted by the words of a cretin priest
A stealer of souls a seller of lies

A testament to glory
A reminder of their toils
This molten beast of
Tailored gristle and mortar
The physical embodiment
The solitary symbol
Of all their hopes and fears
All their lies and dreams

Faith, sublime, corrupted
A play on their beliefs
Fate, resentment, power
He who holds god holds all

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