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