Ignite hell's biting bullets that scorch and sting,
Against heaven's armies that stand and sing.
When the might of garish gods befalls us all,
Where nations crumble and meek mortals fall,
Then celestial suicide will be our fate's call.
Skies will turn to smoke and seas will burn to steam,
Demons will howl. Angels will die. Men will dream.
To believe in an eternal peace beyond war's breath,
No more to suffer through eyes that despair death,
Never to crumble hearts into pits of blackened dust.
Blind hell's hope that bring waves of ruin and rust,
Against heaven's anguish that bring terror and trust.
When the sight of humble humanity suffers defeat,
Where societies tremble and lost leaders meet,
Then universal disaster will be our's generation's treat.
Spirits will turn to shade and souls will burn to sleet,
Demons will growl. Angels will cry. Men will scream.
To believe in an internal lease beyond war's sight,
No more to fear opposing voices that murder might,
Never to extinguish minds into voids of reddened fire.
Crush hell's furious flame that damns their desire,
Against heaven's anger that poisons their pyre.
When the light of yearning youth extinguishes power,
Where lovers stumble and vile villains cower,
Then survival horror will be our destiny's flower.
Space will turn to sand and stars will burn to shower,
Demons will prowl. Angels will fly. Men will scheme.
To believe in a nocturnal ease beyond war's fling,
No more to care about lies that burdens bring,
Never to perish lives into chasms of a darkened king.