Rolesque from Black by Red Ankh

Torch the heavens, crack the sky
And you will see the millions ready to die
Now you'd chain us to your broken wings
To ripen for the harrowing

Dared to unleash forbidden knowledge
Now we're all complicit in this
Infected with deterministic dread
And now the gods have turned their backs on us

You say none have chosen freely before
You say this new order is our destiny
Keep your paradox of will
What if we can't muster such heroic hope?

You ask us to don the scholar's onus of this new faith just to live
To erect this cosmic gamble, no science with which to sieve

The grand narratives of the past required both heroes and fools, incessant
These can be one and the same, you born to lay this trap, preordained
All damned

Sordid sorcery makes fetish of downfall
Our destruction just irresistable
The highest hopes come crashing down
When the blight of our crop festers in the ground

Satisfied just turning the wheel
Why should our blind beast admit the new?
All great pillars of progress
Were always built upon the sand

Every new discovery invites new horrors
Every zenith beckons nedir
Our silent crepuscule, so capricious, so mercurial
It urges us to try, then renders the punishment

We, the machines of caliginous desire
Ever flowing, breaking

How can you expect us to not be vile?

See us join in the dance
Just another false masquerade ball
Notice pitch Cimmerian shade
Eyes on the glass, claws on the door
We laugh and play and loose all our cares
But there our predator grins
Sees only tenderizing of the meat
Unsatisfied by our scent alone

Waits to sink in the teeth
We to be but another dark tragedy
We don't need to know how
Its all the same, beauty no more
It's worse, it's worse, it's worse than sacrifice
We doom our children to a greater loss
When we give them this world
Dancing, singing our faithless fanfare

How can you expect slaves to exude your kindness?
We are but reflections of cruelty, bedlam is in our blood
Madness it is to resist madness at this gate
We are but conscious cogs now

Centered under the gaze of memory
Tyrannical ardor executes our fate
Our will is its will, are we not merely breath
Expelled through the mechanics of this dream?

Pumping god machine birthing dignity
As feed for treachery, a vivisection
We but merely dust caught in this hurricane
Old as time, what consequence could we cause?

What could we undo?
What could we prevent?
We but specks of fancy in its acid ocean
Momentum too great
Manner predetermined
Even now we're marked for new brands of fine torment

Truth and liberty? We say misery
Even death not final, there is no escape
No gods, no masters, only primordial
Malice animus toward everything we are

• Digital Metal
• Metal
• Progressive Metal
• Symphonic Metal
• avant-garde metal
• black metal
• industrial black metal
• symphonic black metal
• symphonic death metal