[Movement 1: Creator]
COME FORTH DARK HERALD
BRINGER OF LIGHT
BOURNE BY THE BURNING SWANS...AND HIS PLAGUE BREATH
CREATOR
OF THE DREAM COIL, A HALO ALOFT AS HANDS ENTWINE
PAINTERS OF THE TEMPEST, WITH THEIR RED HANDS
THE WORLD THEIR CANVAS
THROUGH THE MIST OF THE STORMGLASS...
AND BRUEGEL DREAMT THE ANGELS ABOVE
AS BOSCH DANCED IN EARTHLY DELIGHT
angels fall...
into the canvas
reaching for the light
heaven is empty
...and all the beauty is here
UPON THIS BONE PALETTE
THE SWAY OF NINE-TAILS
LAYERED LASHINGS OF EUPHORIA AND CHAOS
TRIPTYCHS UNFOLD LIKE WINGS
AS THE ARMS OF OUR FATHERS BEAR THE WEIGHT OF WHAT THEY'VE DONE
ANTI-MATTER-MARTYRS
warmth of life
where they sing of fire
children's eyes... for they all shine
as tears rise, oceans of flame billow
when all dreams lose hope...
AND BRUEGEL WEPT FOR THE FADING SUN
WHERE HAVE ALL THE ANGELS GONE?
angels fall...
into the canvas
reaching for the light
heaven is empty
as hell below
and hell below
painted by ghosts
LORDS OF LIFELESS EYES
IN THIS GARDEN OF WILTED FLOWERS
VULTURES SPAKE THE MOTHER TONGUE...
[Movement 2: Cynosure]
hear the children
breathless sleep
where they dream a new day
echoing...
oh when they dream
ebb and flow,... free falling
beautiful and calm...
and fragile, and whole
where they dream a new day
through the coil they course and carousel
echoes,...
hear the lost children
hear the children sing
through the coil they carousel
within this stained glass womb
they sing with open minds...
WITHIN THIS STAINED GLASS WOMB
THEY SEE WITH OPEN MINDS
THE EVENT HORIZON AND BEYOND
[Movement 3: Curator]
A WASTELAND AND SO BARREN, HAUNTED BY A SEA OF PALE FACES
THE CITY OF LOST CHILDREN, RAISING THEIR DEATH-SHROUDED FLAGS
CAN YOU HEAR THE REDRUM POUNDING? THE HEARTBEAT OF MANY AS ONE...
CURATOR, FATHER... WHAT HAVE WE BECOME?
radiance, blinding horizon
the brilliant sunrise
their horizons, where they seize this life
our children...
painters, they are
they are, the change
painters...
