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Bow down and hear the voices say elusive are these days.
Finally upon the wreck of human kind. Bow down.
The planet turns it's sense away from the echoing cries.
It places man upon the highest shelf in the gallery...
The gallery of time.

All existence denied.
From a fragile plain the terror spark ignites.
We're writhing in pain.
Lost to the end.
To it's finality succumb.

We are all but one in this whole mess. Renew, repair.
The tranquility lost within fields of grey.
Behemoths we rise, yet we fall to the tide.
Approaching doom arise.

Enthralled and burned.
Beset and torn, dystopia reforms.
The entire planets history into the nameless void.

All existence denied.
From a fragile plain the terror spark ignites.
We're writhing in pain.
Lost to the end.
This is the ending of the world.

And in the end it all comes down to this.
Terror spark igniting sleeping stone.
And from the ashes there will be a new star in place of this world.

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