Her veins drink smoke from the lowest fire Great birds draw maps upon her skin Her wound spread open like a flower Prepared to let the poison in. Heavens scepter and crown of the gods Yet we stand unblessed Blood of the sun, yet doomed to call dawn The Twilight of the Flesh Lust and sloth mixed with avarice Hear us cheering on our own demise Unearned pride upon envy's path When all we need is a pinch of wrath Will you bend among the bending or Will you sell your garment and buy a sword? How long must we stand here Unblessed in this twilight of the flesh? How can we raise altars on our blood Among the temples of a foreign god? How can our roar be heard In His house if that roar is the roar of a mouse? How can we stand with a faith made to crawl? How can we rise with a creed made to fall? Forever doomed to kneel before the possessed... Or is this just a test? Her eyes are words of light unspoken Black milk still dripping from her chin Stripped bare and dragged into the open, For all to see the poison win