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