The Battle
The glittering gold and shimmering crystal of palatial proportions
Scarlet red carpets, as if the blood itself were loosed
Quivering pulsation's wracking the soul to it's core
Like the walls of Jericho before their fall
Armored knights, swords aloft, defending the parapets
Shaking with hidden fears, hoping for truce
Knowing in reality there must be a great toll
The whole Earth trembles at the destruction of such beauty
For which, shame must fall upon man himself
In seeking such glory, to conquer worlds, to have it all
Never content with riches and splendor
Nor one another in complete surrender
Destroying what's good, enveloping that which will destroy the soul
Self destruction on such a grand scale
Never content until he burns in Hell
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