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Atop the shameless tower |
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With wings outstretched |
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An apprehensive shadow is cast over all |
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Drain us of our divinity |
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And leave us dry amongst the dirt of men |
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In the worst of our nightmares we are weak and servile |
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We, as martyrs |
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Fear runs through our veins |
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Hung for grandeur and fate |
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We hang lifeless |
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With blind eyes turned from daylight |
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We deny |
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With blind eyes turned from the glare of being |
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Loathe that which we are |
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I abhor the undiscerning |
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No more of my blood will be shed of pity |
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With an empty and unforgiving heart |
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Once more, I scream to the sky |
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For I am mine |
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The rot of subordination I burn away |
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I am mine |
