within the burning retinas,
sinew severed by the entrapping
green
blind chaos

to run faithfully on
carefully guided cliffs,
gently cradled by fate,

true fate is to be trapped at the bottom
of your souls' steep valley, walls scraped
and cleansed, stripped bare by bleeding fingers
guided through a path misted
with the fogs of smug weavers,
sitting comfortably on mirror trhones
and their jeweled robes

Those pitiful fools, blindly stumbling along
the narrow corridor delicately etched,
the weavers' sweet child, born of horns,
cornered and guttering, stumbling
along the linear course.

Not I, with fangs bared at the holes of surveyance
twinkling specks among permanent darkness
I repulse, I do not accept this course.
Get thee back, and cut off your aged fingers,
wrinkled, decaying, mold and dust.
Withdraw your clotted finger-tips!

For the pride of humanity, I do not obey.
No effort shall guide me along this blooded rail
With the shreds of adam's feet,
humility, flesh, these memento's of mortality.
I reject, and with finger-tips to rend stone,
I carve what is unfaithful to thine plan.
Marble torn like fiber, make no effort upon me.

Fear me! for with two paths carved,
or three, or with more, man takes choice
and the fibers of your tapestry unwind
to loose strands, tools for no one.
and your stench recedes back into the caves of time

Those are some fuckin awesome lyrics!

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any crits or anything like that?

Well, other than the fact it has no specific flow,(which is completely irrelevent to it's awesome-ness) no.

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LOLz
try my other one 7SW,
windswept realms

That is cool, gave off a Meshuggah-esque vibe, with ever-morphing context and imagery.

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