1. |
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In the eye of the storm
A boy was born
With a weight on his shoulders
And from his home, he was torn
Son of Satan, Son of God
False prophets were never much to him
Dithering about the world beyond
A child riddled with agony
Agony
Misanthropic, nihilistic, dilated fantasy
Gorged upon in life, as in death
Incongruous and aqueous by nature
Absent, meandering soul bereft
Beaten into submission
The lines have been drawn
Hark, the scholars have bidden thee
Summon yourself upon this fateful dawn
Tunneled vision
Breath so pure
In light of what's to come
A malevolence is the cure
A character, not an age
Defining the meaning of man
Erupting from the rivers of hell
Burned at the stake for all to see
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2. |
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A life left unspoken
Frivolous and benign
Broken from the grips of Hades
Washed clean by the pyres oil
The gods must be appeased
For a mortal man to save his hide
By the hand of Prometheus
The offering is unearthed
Gifted with the wings of Hermes
The pyres oil is lit
Useless design within foul hands
Quasi-carrion denied the flame\
A birth of common rabble
No family to his name
Blinded by the Hellenistic terror
Running back from whence you came
Eluding the iron fist of the law
A decree spit upon the ground
In feeble attempt to cage an animal
Evoking a nihilistic rage
Man of mediocrity
Blessed by the hand of Tyche
Chosen by the tongue of Atropos
Etched into the threads of reality
A martyr, stepping towards the dark
Bleeding the truth for the forsaken
Traveling through the land
Speeding the lies of the tormented
Running to the edges of the earth
A path defined by fear
Looking into the death dealers eye
In search of a better way to die
Lies! Treachery and Hate!
Tied by the tongue of Pandora
The gods have laid their plans
They are unhappy with thee
Riding the tides of the sea
Visions of Phlegethon and Cocytus
Is death the end?
Or just the beginning?
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3. |
Prelude to the Heretic
09:16
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4. |
Shores of Styx
05:32
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Tormented eyes roll back into his head
Driven to exhaustion by his affliction
Every sound a thousand knives
Feeding the paranoia
Shook from a stupor
A rude awakening
The cries of holy men
Casting down the blasphemous
First they take his fingers
One knuckle at a time
A night filled with tortuous flame
Vehement screams of anguish fill the sky
Heathen tied to a metal cross
Lowered deeper into the flame
Flesh bubbling and eyes burning
Lifted out, only to be lowered again
Screaming at the top of his lungs
Not a soul dares to answer
Fear of God is too great
Burning flesh is no reason to die
Demons sail in, gifts of Charon
Spawning forth from cracks in the earth
Determined to balance good and evil
Slaughtering the righteous
The great Cerebus rose
Looming in ominous devotion
Drool pooling at the floor below
Eyeing it's next victim
A long man, fighting for his life
Baffled at his misconception
He swung his sword with hate
Plunging the tip into the Cerebus heart
Dust settled among the corpse
Waves of Styx growing larger
Great horns broke the surface
Followed by an army of minions
He spoke in a guttural tongue
Expressing gratitude and respect
Summoning a pale horse, pulling the strings of fate
You are now the purveyor of death
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