Ism

We've suffered endlessly, bleeding what we believe
Our faction, the dying breath of sanity
Keep the blue flame alive inside our hearts and minds
Never losing sight of what we have

These wounds, so deep and slow to heal,
Exile isn't tantamount to our destruction

Reject the world you know
The same hands used to bleed as to feed
Its dexterous fingers carefully constricting the carotid
Pry open pineal carapace, flayed
Subconscious resistances assuaged
This influx, inviolate
We are thus marked apparitions of perdition
Activate the final nexus, thus begins our surge

Cascading, oculist rendered asunder
Absolve them of their ignorance
We, branded by charlatans as traitors
Invoke this sedition openly

Adversaries fall one by one
We're all that's left, i feel the burning inside
Through conflagration, our souls now match the sky

Psionicism
Ism