Raise your head, servant
You have been bowed for far too long
Clench your fists, warriors
The time has already come
A life equally divided
Between the pride of your masters
And the ineffaceable scent of blood
You all thought your sacrifice
Was worth the cause
Governed with crosier and sword
Only to find shelter from the war of all
And so you saw it all
The dawn, the rise, the fall
The vicious cycle of hope and corruption
The dying light of ideals
Where there once was a rapture
And thus the doubt worms his way
And excavates these immaculate intellects
The charade falls apart
As you observe the scepter
Weaved in the air
Receptacle of favourable and dreadful fate
Aspiring to its taste
You conceive a realm delivered
From this stranglehold of betrayal
And suffocated revolt
One last chance to break all oaths
And reach for the throne
Yet the throne was hollow all along
Crossed out and sundered
By its internal inconsistent form
Power does not sit where you think it does
But lies in the interstices of what we think we know
Diffracted and dispersed
Let all scepters lapse in the dirt where they belong
Only to find shelter from the war of all
And so you saw it all
The dawn, the rise, the fall
The vicious cycle of hope and corruption
The dying light of ideals
Where there once was a rapture
And thus the doubt worms his way
And excavates these immaculate intellects