The Pheonix is nigh

When broken bones and bloody eyes turn to scars,
Trembling lips and withering smiles curse the stars.
Our hands do the dirty work of evolutions eternal war,
We break them down rending and tossing their mask afar.
They’ll curse and weep beneath our steady hands.
As enemies, in splintered unity they’ll try to stand.
But soon they’ll see why we tear and rip at their hope,
For soon amidst the shadows and inky darkness they’ll grope.
From their singed corpse we’ll smite the false truths and lies,
So from their ashes they can be reborn and within new fire, rise.

Paradigms Sin

Through scars of a bloody past they view the world
Through wounds inflicted by ancient children they live.
Breathing hatred, breathing agony, Bleeding despair
No hope just anger
No love only revenge.
Their true enemy is their memory,
The memory that battles progress.
They can’t escape the paradigm,
they seek transgressions
they hate what they find.
It is their addiction.

Blind to their sins they preach broken truths,
justice born from death is what they seek.
That corrupted spawn they worship,
scion of hate and deception.
For this they live.
For this they die.
Blinded,
From within.
Blinded
By paradigms sin.

Grey Matter (The Crooked Forge)

My mother maybe black and my father yellow.
My eyes brown and skin tan.
My hair black and teeth white
But grey is my mind.
Does it matter the color of my minds matter
That grey glob that sits secure
Shielded from ignorance forged in piano keys
tempered in crimson and gold.

Ignorance and hate are glass and crystal
Amplifying the fears of our ruby hearts.
Precious things.
Lime and coal mark our souls
We had no choice.
Stuck in the past they die at last.
Leaving their Cooked forge behind.

Good and Broken

Another stripe painted across our backs
One more day hearing of souls we lack
The strain of a past we never wanted to know
Thought we could have a future as pure as snow
But you know what they say about old dogs and tricks
Try to teach them about the future but it never sticks
When dragged through time chains tend to rust
When muscles start to grow, links start to bust
So they try to bind the hands of time
With ropes made of diamonds and dimes

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