Fingers of occultaclysmic shadow
Flames from which Templars gasp
Pious observers not even ash
Continue their influence on the ignorant and the learned
Those who once were revered
long arm of pontificate.
Arbiter's judging hand
Fearing what they think they know
Heretics offered as fuel
Unaware hypocrisy is spoken
From the mouths of kings.
Kings who forget they didn't crown themselves
Speak the very words
Gnostics kissed a blazing stake for
Misconceived beliefs
coupled with a silken tongue
Transforms gilded glory
into shreds of faded heraldry
Accusing, Smiling, grin of cinders
Still mocks blind men self-assure
If but brief calm could be achieved
Screaming, charred limbs, taste of Templar's blood
We did not see what we buried
In pride, we did not remember
cannot avoid cyclic deconstruction
nor will we change, and recall those having been hidden away...

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS