How direct is our will? to breakthrough this strife Burning passions decisive as the knife White storms fall as Autumn turns to dust The engulfing flames Blood of life’s lust Moving against gods with Masks of Hate Twisting the crippled life with tears of rape Moving as Gods do hestitate Bursting the Lying Flesh we suffocate How direct is our will? To slaughter this strife Burning passions decisive as the knife White Storms fall as autumn turns to dust The engulfing pyre Blood of life’s lust Moving with gods consumed by hate Burning the crippled life we have unmade Moving as you do hesitate Blooming the Vital Flesh we create