From waking dawn
From first drawn breath
I was yours
Ever silent ward
That to which I clung
I was yours
In the quaking pools
Of your gaze
Shackled and drowned
Thus christened
Son, brother, king
For what false warmth, weak
For what blinding light, pale
Bodies will we burn?
When the mantle of our spirit
Is not our own
We have nothing
We are nothing
Begin rites of reclamation
Flames engulf the initiate
Kneel
Kneel before the raging blaze
Offer the crumbling deed
It ascends as fiery ash
New stars in heavens reborn
There is no deal
There can be no more deal