Was ever sacred fire within these halls, Or mere ghostcandle, ignis fatuus? A temple turned sepulcher, Marmoreal and self-become! A fool's edifice unto smoke-scattered divinity! Was ever truth quick amid the coals?
Decriers -- Their dictum echoes in atria To fracture quaint remembrance. They set it all down as naught, They set it all down as naught -- Naught but the ponderous slough From whence the gnosis slithered, Slithered forth in shining, new scales.
Enter amid the chanting stone, Whose murmuring corridors are holy ground. Red Horeb burns with fire Yet is not consumed. A presence is here, And a multitude.
Silencers, do you stop your ears? The stones become a dread chorus, Seed of faith's patriarch, raised of the very rock. And spiritwoven in igneous union, Rise as living stonework, a priesthood ascendant.
May our voices harrow you That you should never forget. With burning syllables Mark we thee witness Henceforth unto death.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
