Resurrected in a cathedral of trees
With echoes of Daimonion of Socrates
There's nay divine hath left in me I haven't slain
Liketh Abel's life b'reft by the wrath of Cain
The Mark of Cain is branded deep into my soul
As a heretic I wandered lost amongst the foul
My armor broken, swathed in a leper's garment
I left behind the fortress I've sworn to defend
Old wisdom comes
In unknown tongues
That speaketh not to men
Who fear of what becomes
Ancient wisdom lore
Of dead bloodlines of yore
Cold entombed in the
Womb of Babylon's Whore
For those about to die
In the name of the divine
My corpse thy temple beest
Thy refuge and thy shrine
I am a stranger here, I'm not like these thousands of souls
Flickering brightly and hopefully in the darkness
My pride has always stood between them and me
The pride of being a superior human being
But now I know that we're all a wretched animal species
Distinguished from the insects only by nerve centers and thoughts
Reasoning
My flesh I tear apart
May thee dwell in my own heart
And find thy shelter in this
Cryptic sarcophag
And in this tomb
May thee dream as in a womb
And may nay wicked hand
Disturb what once inhumed
Tomorrow I'll hide in some hole of death and be heard of no more
I'll be alone, alone and desolate, and why not? It's logical
I'll be alone because I have loved no one, no one and nothing
Not even myself
Shelter the Faithless
Shelter the Faithless
