Fall of the Throne
The deeper we delve through the human soul
the colder and darker we find the hole
On silver platter, behold our head,
the white doves of faith have fallen dead
A life of ignorance without a plan
We’re blindly following another lamb
empty promises of joy, peace and love
While judgment reigns down all hell from above
To sit shivering in my cold sweat
the future is painfully clear
Death can find us any time
so sleep forever in fear
There is to be no escape
from his frightening snare
and through their hollow eyes
the dead shall sit and stare.
The human condition, so painfully bleak,
Never to find the warmth that we seek
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