I saw the most brilliant men of my time, Go to waste in a world designed for the weak, Where creations bow to all but most to a master, Who has no better advice than to turn the other cheek.
I see peasants claiming crowns, to take a logic down, I see scepter-wielding scum on high thrones, To pray and feast on traditions and the union, Spit in the face of which has kept them all alive.
The few who still make use of their heads have seized To change the world, To tear themselves to shreds in vain, And though for long the arms lay silent, Fading footsteps on the path are now filled By an old alliance, To deliver an overarching blow! To free the world from yet another plague!
Her plan has filled my heart with trust in powers higher than those devine, Contain more wraththan any mushroom cloud may bear. I do not fear the final strike of the reaper, Waist no more time, let tomorrow be the end.
Have you ever wondered why the waters rise? To erase whatever in this mainland lies. Have you ever wondered where the winters hide? Sacred visions deconstructed by a light That came to stay.
Have you ever dreamed our end that nigh? Perhaps your omnipotent god knows why. As unforseen as the time to pass will the counsel sound To Stand content and await the overarching blow as the last thing rightful on earth.