Let us speak now of the quelling Of grievous wounds upon the wings Seraphic blasphemies split choirs in twain And lo, unto war, did we gloriously sing. The wonders of the heavens manifest in crimson aurora May all mortal flesh behold this exalted genocide in awe. There is no beauty in the axiom Our liberty became our torment Even as feathers fall to the earth The races of men kneel down in reverence. No grandeur could rival our deaths No pain could be as resplendent Eternal flesh of righteous creation Torn and damned in bitter descent. The majesty of stagnation prevails Insanity and freedom lie suppressed beyond the veil.