Bone-white shrine on a barren hill
Grim, severe, blinding in the sun
"I must know you, see past your façade"
He feels the limestone; an archway overhead
Now he's beneath the dome he had seen from afar –
This should be a home, but it's Void
Three connecting rooms, ashen, bare, never used
With one word engraved -
It's closer to a tomb
Eyes meeting with the Architect's as he enters the dome
Shades seem to bleed from the walls at the call of their master
"Pride," "Vanity" and "Ambition" are the names of the slaves
"Break," so commands the Architect as they envelop the Sculptor
Pierced by ethereal claws
Scorched as they scour inside
Found their three counterparts
Surge of pain, they all erupt
Withstand...
Reject...
The Sculptor rises, turns to him to say:
"I'm not like you; I've left those wraiths behind"
Leaving the Architect in his vain monument
Where he had "truth" engraved
The Sculptor turns, watching fractures form and the ground fall away
Swallowing this tomb
The destiny of men
Who worship their reflection
