Rise of thee, a scion, brings another martyr’s end. Past glory is faded, gone, ‘til there’s nothing left. Weak willed men will whisper this, “It has come at last!” Unjust, they would leave you here alone in your unrest. Numb to stones that they cast at you; deaf to their lies, just a branding bruise. Broken seal has been exposed, so the time is nigh. Forgot prophesy disclosed unto a feeble mind. Set aside from words and thought or tremble in the wind. The foretold is drawing close with no time left to… Feel the stones that they cast at you, or hear their lies, just a branding bruise. Tasting that decay slowly spread, infect. Hearing that refrain the cycle sings again. I’m making my bid, console as you spoke; your name on my tongue, flesh the same as me. Maggots will crave a bleeding heart; ferment and roil the blood. Eternal rusty gear will turn again, keep spinning on infinite. Rise of thee, a scion, brought another martyr’s end. Glory from a point of view, etched within the dust. The meek have now won their place, in insignificance. Justice has been served again with wolf and goat abreast. Numb to stones that they cast at you; deaf to their lies, just a branding bruise. Tasting that decay slowly spread, infect. Hearing that refrain the cycle sings again. I’m making my bid, console as you spoke; your name on my tongue, flesh the same as me.

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