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