Atop the shameless tower

With wings outstretched

An apprehensive shadow is cast over all

Drain us of our divinity

And leave us dry amongst the dirt of men



In the worst of our nightmares we are weak and servile



We, as martyrs

Fear runs through our veins

Hung for grandeur and fate

We hang lifeless



With blind eyes turned from daylight

We deny

With blind eyes turned from the glare of being

Loathe that which we are



I abhor the undiscerning

No more of my blood will be shed of pity

With an empty and unforgiving heart

Once more, I scream to the sky



For I am mine

The rot of subordination I burn away



I am mine