Father Forgive

We are the fire Burning higher and higher Fear our wake of devastation Hear our hatred elevated We are the fire of offering Kindle low furnace of souls So as to serve a torch upturned Shrouded in bone and bloodlike tears Of pure spirit, henceforth pay homage This mirror image, the head of Christ The serpent's tongue, the beat of bone A crimson flow, a virgion vision So pale and dreadful, our graven image Is this time dead? Children of dust So forlorn and so forsaken In cloven tongue, this seeming fealure Alas lay lifeless fallen cherubs To endless years our thoughts stillborn The scattered graves our minds will mourn These ages past, Heaven forbid We of the lower world in mourning