our original faith

where those heroes 

with no names

are still fighting

        (for a better tomb)

where there is

no memories to mend

and no means

         for an end

our original faith

is now pronounced backwards

in the languages of the forked tongues

word by word

as wisdom from the fallen

benediction or bewitchment 

a vile substance 

for a strange addiction

chosen by a faith 

        

                            that lied, 

a frozen sentence of a bargain 

                      to a gone penance

 

under scraps of decadanse, 

an impending rising doom 

that goes motionless through every gloom

devoid of life, in a death reverence

it rules our minds, 

and corrupts everyone into a fool's game

                       forged in shame

in the ashes revealed 

there's a future foreseen

where the reckoning times 

never fail us

unleash now

all your power of bestiality 

                      within

crave for faith, 

with a rebellious tone

fight deceit 

         in your inception 

and their world 

would die again 

and again 

in blame

and deception

the whore's derision,

                      lying

to all our god's envisions,

        and their cruel faces

kept changing 

             everyday

through the shapes

of night and day

at this earth´s stage,

a female

forgotten touch

        - it was now our opening torch

those roses

with thorns,

always a reminder

              to you

that her sacred thoughts

are not yours.

forgotten realms 

       of a new founded whelm

the vile's will,

      the slaughter's hand

that rings the bell

         in this wasteland

all eagle's claws

      were still clutched

to the lost years ark.

but who's repaid those wasted years

who's gonna manage, all the damage done?