A chimaera tears this world asunder In a parasitic feast of neurotic alchemy This tireless beast, with undying hunger Self-proclaimed prosperity's arch enemy Wails of suffering, so obsolete Further bless a garden of shallow graves Silent serpents fall at damnation's feet Bereft to torture, by faux-kings enslaved Abandoned in the twilight of dementia Dreams amount to nothing as the coffins descend A million tears might fall, but neither one nor all Will save us from when all light comes to an end Loneliness Pulls me under Leaving a World torn asunder For these ashes reek of the forgotten The air itself reeks of the long forgotten As the sands of time devour their memory The stones of Babel tower above the fallen For black roses are the dowry of misery Torrents of blood, they seep through the gashes Torn by the silence of these desperate screams Turning both peasant and king to ashes And mirror all my empty, darkened dreams For we are nothing but flesh and bone Oh misery, fruit of a Sun Dethroned