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