Libera, pt. 1: saturnine spheres

Where white doves fall as hammers
And the wilted horses dream of lions

To the crashing shores, hooves through bloodied tears
Rising red rosarium
Blossoming choirs
Beatitudes of the endless end
Where white doves fall

White doves fall as hammers
And the wilted horses dream of lions
Of the drapery, moth grey veils
Where the black winds rage

This is our end design
The war on all life
Of our mindless vessels
Death we breathe

Life's demise, mechanized end design
Far beyond our humanity
Our end design
To be erased from all time
Through the shadow of the valley of death
We bathe in blood

He saturnine spheres of fluttering wings
Dusted wombs
Upon the ebbing auras, they feed
Drawn to life

Burning moths, we've set free
Illuminate the way
Across killing fields, once golden
What have we done?
What have we done?

One last time, upon the threshold
In our hands vultures wheel
As time swings the great pendulum
Dawn of the industrial dirge
Where pilgrims sing our fate
No more chances, are we too late?

Exiled voices
All of the one tongue
Words of extinction, chorus of truth

Life's demise, mechanized end design
Far beyond our humanity
Our end design
To be erased from all time
Through the shadow of the valley of death
The same blood