Praying to our own Gods
Writing our own Legends and Following our own Lights
Our Lies are our Beliefs and our Beliefs are our Rules
Our Rules don’t matter
Real stories about Real people
And from the Dead Flesh will rise the Eastern Flowers
Hiking Birds, Bleeding Fruits, Rhythm and Water, Black Islands and Green Grass
A Grace on the Hill and some Ink on the Floor
Deserting the Lords of Needs to embrace the Queens of Nil
With their own Choirs We will sing and the Wild will be praised
Hosting Hordes and Burning Words
What can’t be seen is Proved.
What can’t be proved is Real
We will build our own Chapels
They will be Glorious as We will be
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