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 languages of forked tongues

word by word

wisdom from fallen

flavouring

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 a decadanse, 

an impending doom 

that goes through every gloom

bewitchment 

or bewilderment

devoid of life, in a death reverence

it rules our minds, 

an corrupts 

 into a fool's game

forged in shame

in the ashes revealed 

there's a future foreseen

where all reckoning times 

never fail us

unleash now

all your power of bestiality 

within

crave for a faith, 

with primal view, a still rebellious tone

in wait, to fight all deceit 

and inception 

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 our opening torch

those roses

with thorns,

always a reminder

 to you

that all 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?