Eyes of the Dead

A mind of its own

Spawn out of fire

The demon becomes a god

A child

Two faced and innocent

Transcending

Control

Fragments of nothing

Enslaving

Reversed humane

Empires made out of nothing but air

Creation fails

Hungry he laughs at us all

Sacred is noyhing no more

In the eyes of the dead

At the edge of the night

In an oath of blood we are sacred

In the eyes of the dead

Still nothing revealed

The wounds they still bleed

And won't heal

Blood in the sands

Slaves to the hunger

Heaven denies them all

A god

A dome for its pleasures and lust

Possession

The falls prophets of nothing

Promise but take it back

The one

The futile and venomous son

Will torture