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Syphor
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Pulpits & Effigies Burn
Evolved in time,
and the stories told,
the myths of angels hunting demons,
Hell awaiting us below,
the followers erupt corrupted in their
parlor masquerade, no longer captive servants
prisoners of faith,
Slipped into the darkness, the tainted spirits faint,
they follow in disgrace, this morning black parade,
pressed against the alter, as the silhouette in dreams,
rest beneath the pulpit sermon hopeless and obscene,
Contorted, distorting heresy,
for a noble crusade, with a viral plague,
spreading like disease,
a killing spree,..
To the gallows crawl the savior lord,
admonishing his throne,
in the battle drawn, creations bound
event horizons dawn
Protesting mercy,
punishment for all the lies,
leniency denied
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Suffer in silence,
you awaken bound
beneath a desert sun,
no faithful flock
or resurrection
these are the end of days
of autocracy,
the final shards of faith,
torn from their hearts, we're free
beneath the embers of desire
the bellows blow hell fire,
the reaper stokes the flames,
to the front row run,
holy pulpits and effigies burn,
and by the hands of the fallen cold,
hypocrites by the collar thrown,
into the nightshade thorns,
holy pulpits and effigies burn,
dim the lights from their false gods eyes,
blackened, blind to their demise,
from the angel stained hammer run,
holy pulpits and effigies burn.
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