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lirik lagu light bearer - silver tongue

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eve:
he feasts upon his words!
balladry of battles lost
omniscient megalith
responsible for such death

what we have won carries with it
the cost of fates much worse
the countless efforts of the scorned
will echo evermore

it is not within my means
to change this providence!
yarrow stick and runed scrimshaw
fall in patterns so bleak and sure

the garden never ours to own
we never lay within his lap
our struggle won with gripe and grief
we cannot crave a fallacy

pitiable routes so certain
a hindrance must be sought
blood borne ascendance
bestowing rites to challenge

charcoal glyphs to carry
what words cannot past life
school our angered cries
to enunciate our intent

with every generation
mercenaries and emissaries
unbound by genders restraint
emanc-p-te our faculties

my time is brief, a mere fragment
we lay down warp and weft with haste
we encourage times indulgence
to watch over our aggregate

spooling reams of fluent speech
florid blood in integers
recurring coils of chromosome
topography anatomy

it is not just hands, but desire
scored grooves for liquid fire
casting thoughts as daggers
and tongues of silver ore

flailing blights of wickedness
through sordid jowls their agency
at each turn our folly bays
to overthrow our victory

intarsia genes within the weave
purposeful rivulets of dust
weapons ensconced elaborate
a knife so sharp to cut

(we are) one sentience amid a plethora
sublunary minds to urge
dwelling behind lithe t–th and claw
we beseech to you our proposal;

we offer up our progeny
and we urge of you the same
as nations rise tectonic
and earth and sea does strain

guardians will flank our vessel
pale ursus will show their mettle
a paradigm of allies
stand close encircling

for he is empire manifest
on earth as it is in heaven
frail minds will underpin
his faculty of dominion

the prophesied child:
motes of dust effervesce
threads unbridled coalesce
with futures foresight
choose their tethers
embracing hands on
prescient faces

reading tells in causality
in my hands alone
only one can unravel
they tie off knots in my aether

i, the prophet, sagacious child
fatherless and motherless
my soul alone do i trust
foretold apocrypha

seeds of change grow within
planted deep our final sin

those opposed to the false god:
we will build a council, a democracy!
a nation of great magnitude, this our apogee!
a child to usher in this fate, to raise our impious war
against the monarchy of god!

we will climb so high!
we will spread our hands
and touch ten million other worlds
and sing our sermon!

we the silver tongued


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