Four figures appear before me
Four to rule over the innocent
One for bondage, one for power,
one for greed, and another for fear
In your logic, may I cast a spark?
Twisted dogma, may I leave a mark?
Without pretense or a defense
in this moment of relevance
So violent in their silence
My voice trembles, my query is made
Echoing throughout the chamber
My words settle and slowly fade
And I'm gasping for breath and reaching for depth
I search my thoughts, this is all that was left
I say, living's not so easy when you disregard all of your own
A man cannot exist when burdened by his fatal flaws
They say we are the protectors, players and directors
These are creeds and solemn vows
We dim the lights when certain, hide behind the curtain
Submission is all we allow
With all I have left in me, I slowly reach out my hand
I touch them, tear off their shrouds
Each face a state of my being
And - And each one falls to the ground