Aave-Strenght Yeller (san: Athils)

The treetrunks are cutting light
The dark behind eyelids
Abundance of emptiness
It is a door you don't want opened

We've began to lost the ways
We once kept as cornerstones
a Spiritual genocide
Sent a traitor to the throne

The autocrasy of one-sideness
Collected shrapnels from the shore
Now it dictates the paths we trample
Unlike it was before

In the cellars of Inquisition
Contorting dissident minds
An Auto de fe to warn the
Others who refuse to act blind

We've began to forget
In such an ignominious pace
We're threwn to the sea of anguish
to the Death-Screecher's malicious embrace