As our time passed in endless oblivion,
We took heed of the call
In a soul eating timeless communion
That came after our fall.
Time and space bent around as our prison,
A hall, made of shadows and grief.
Now a crack formed inside of this shell
We at last may be pardoned and freed.

Our swords strike tonight
The black hand of vengeance is thine sacred right
Heavens above and Hell down below,
Beware as we mount, the grim steeds of war.

We held on to a memory's fragment,
To remind of our past.
When we held an eternity's promise
But each day was our last.
We had might we had conquered the knowledge
Of gods and of people alike
But we burnt our own wings in the process
Like moths that were drawn to the light.

We endured our creator's betrayal
We remained proud and tall.
Never gave in to light or to darkness
To control our own call.
Time is here place is now to arise,
From this grave that they made us call home
As we rip through this womb made of torment
We vow: All creation is foe.