With Hearts Toward None I

Between the damned The pissed And the outright insane Grand architects of failure Sculptors of loss No golden thrones to follow No shrines of solace to seek I shall erect myself over transience I shall ascend over flesh Steadfastly tearing through aether I shall rise to the beyond I shall reveal heights not yet imagined I shall rewrite Summa de Homine I shall speak with tongues of angels And I shall burn with pure light I will burn alright Onto rupture: bonds rearranged Scorch the archaic remnants And rip through primordial thoughts Onto diremption: self and kin All glory and strenght of culture Now null and void No golden thrones to follow No shrines of solace to be found And only the locusts shall sing And only the locusts shall sing At the end of the day