SEVERED WAS HIS HEAD BUT STILL HE COULD SEE FAR, FAR AWAY
THEIR OPEN PLAINS, THEIR OPEN FIELDS


WHERE RIVERS RAN WITH BLOOD THEY LIFTED HIS BODY
DRENCHED IN SUMMERIAN BLACK WATERS OF SIN


CLIPPED ARE THE WINGS OF THIS ANGEL
HIS VOICE HAS BEEN SILENCED
STRIPPED HE HAS BEE LIMB FROM LIMB


THE PASSAGE LIES OPEN, THEY ARE ALL WRITTEN DOWN WORD BY WORD
THEIR AUTHOR, LORD OF THE CRYPTIC SEAS


CELESTRIAL GUARDIAN OF THEIR TALE AND SCRIPTURES
LEAD THEM TO THE FIRE BURNING

AND THEY SHALL GROW

WHEN ALL THIS HAD BEEN DONE HIS SIGHT WAS STILL UPON THEM

NEITHER DAY NOR NIGHT HIS EYES WOULD SHUT
THROUGH HINNUMS EMBERS, A LIGHT SHALL BLIND HIM FOREVER