I am the Bringer of the Light
The singer of the demons and the feeder of the fires
The keeper of the lie people use to free their minds
Kush burns when burning Bushes bloom their secrets in the night
I am seven headed hydra you cremated all the angels
The Heaven-sent pariah you created as a scapegoat
I watched you plant a poison seed "for surely you will die"
So am I the Great Deceiver or the person in the sky? Tell me why
I am The Shepherd of the Sheep
The curer of the lepers and the shelter for the weak
I am the conscience in your head before you speak, I am everything
Without the suffering and grief you'd never hear the Heavens ring
I made the Serpens to present them with a choice
I pulled you from the stars while they listened to your voice
Now who's the real victim the created or creator?
I gave the world beauty and they blame it on the Savior, look
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Why would you create a wooden cross to watch your son die?
(There's not a sunrise I wouldn't cross to watch the son rise)
I'm tired of the cryptic speech riddles and the mystery
When misery is present you don't fix it or give sympathy
You clipped my wings I used to be an angel you remember that?
(If I recall Non Serviam was your choice of epitaph)
I've always done the dirty work punishing the sinners
I'm the hero that the world deserves you're nothing but an image
(What if suffering's a gift to learn the value of the moments?)
(And Serpens necessary to deliver their atonement?)
That's bullshit the only Hell I see is the world you made
(You never understood the real meaning so you lurk in flames)
You stripped them naked then made them feel only shame for it
(I script the sacred they disobeyed and they paid for it)
Self-righteous demagogue applauding when they writhe in vain
While you're right as rain you write the rain until they die in pain