Once you shone like the meridian sun
Golden, Bleeding
now it sets over what time has done
Vultures Feeding
A faded voice from the red land howls its pain
as the work of nature removes its stain

There is one of you that yet survives
in the Chaos Scheming
And timeless invocations fall upon the ears
of the Ibis Dreaming
Idle tongues are choking on ancient spells
but if we know you then we know ourselves

Your shrine is vacant
But that doesn't mean the gods are gone for good
Your lesson's waiting
on the altar of the hours steeped in blood

(An aria asfet! An auau-a! An tau-a! An smam-a ret sep sen! An het tebh! An xebt-a!)

And you will witness
as the palaces all turn a shade of rust
though your stories still remain
your faces and your names
like your monuments have crumbled into dust.

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