Burning Skies

Atop the shameless tower
With wings outstretched

An apprehensive shadow
Is cast over all
Drain us of our divinity

Drain us of our divinity
And leave us dry
Amongst the dirt of men
In the worst of our nightmares
We are weak and servile
We are weak
We are weak and servile

We, as martyrs
Fear runs through our veins
Hung for grandeur and fate
We hang lifeless
We hang lifeless
With blind eyes turned from daylight
We deny

With blind eyes turned from the glare of being
Loathe that which we are

I abhor the undiscerning
No more of my blood will be shed of pity
With an empty and unforgiving heart
Once more, I scream to the sky

For I am mine
The rot of subordination I burn away
I am mine
I am mine