Obsidian

Obsidian

Obsidian is the dawn's avowal,
Shattered glass, it passes by.
The earth, it clasps in cold denial,
Fleetingly, the spirits die.
Painted is the hearth of heaven;
Ruptured youth torn from its grave,
Painted are the lies of freedom,
None of which can e'er be saved.
Entangled masses, hear the bugle
Summon you across the coals.
Watch the heralds flame the scruples,
Urging us to purge our souls.
Fearful are the weak and weary,
Tainted are the smiles of man.
In tribute, see our last effigy
'Fore we cherish our last stand.