Iconoclast (the burning statues of morality)

I stand, emboweled with deceptive morality
A black looking glass, my genetic inheritance
I tatter the bonds you have left me
I splinter the idol of your long-dead god

My curse aimed directly at your lies
Thy burning statues of a blackend morality
For your eyes have been depriven of their sight
You feed your hunger on a narrow reality

No longer shall these chains of subservience
Tie me down to thy archaic boughs
Rouse in me wolves, preternatural, allmighty
Lest thy winter thaws never in my lands

I, Iconoclast
Leave the white canvasses riven
Hack from their socles
The statues of your long dead god
And rise me from this earthly sepulchre
Burn my inner sanctum core
A furnace is lustring
A vehement fire within

Thy statues unhinged
Profane talons lacerate the marble
Nefarious angels scale the incarnate stone
And sever the limbs that attempted to rein them
For I shallt no longer bow to thy petrified eminence
Now prudence lies raped, the brave march in front
Thy august, obedient corpse lies dead, skewered
Liberated legions now roam, freed from their shackles and chains

My curse redirected to the self
My broken statues of blackend morality
I shut my eyes and left them for unopened
I fed my hunger on a narrow reality