Pater noster, qui es in caelis...

Forgive us father, for our sins,
We find our own gates to paradise,
As we bow and sing our hymn,
Deliver us from our abundant vice.

Our gate is our gate to cross,
So others shall meet in thy heaven,
As we gaze into the seas of chaos,
Hallowed are those who are chosen.

الحرب

How many more will die?
In pointless wars of man,
Built on deception and lies,
Finding all the young fans.

Greed and arrogance plague us,
Using our idea as a excuse,
Watching all die with all some,
Burning with unknown muse.

シーン

Nothing of luck and steel,
Going down to pray and kneel,
Breaking barriers every day,
Just to watch equality.

You're no better but equal,
Some are more equal than others,
But that really does not satisfy,
Just to make you cheat and lie.

The storm's on the front.

نمي فهمم

The sun sets on my hallowed street,
All noise and cold silenced,
Here loneliness and darkness meet,
The silence roars with quiet.

The black azure make cobalt,
The dreams are crimson blood,
Parents saying its not your fault,
This blood belongs to your son.

Spare Change.

The woman walks on high shoes,
Waiting to be swept off in day,
Trying to just go straight through,
And satisfy in every way.

The man acts like he won't care,
And goes rampant in his ways,
He won't go ahead and stare,
The one charade he can't fake.

The moon will howl at them,
The sun will force new plans,
Burning eyes like gems,
Love will fold them in soft hands.

Удачи!

Look at the fragmented monster,
This has become in entirety,
Nonsense and spectacle galore!
Wanting freedom in death,
Because happiness is much more!

Your eyes will soon bleed,
If you do not go and sleep,
Watching you in your corner,
Is your death, savior I seek.

Aylissia.

For those willing to listen,
Have hearts of compassion and heart,
Those willing to talk,
Have neither strength or heart.

Such is the inaccuracy and rampancy,
Of a bored person,
With too much time on his hands.

Forced.

The sickness of the man,
Is his unwillingness to fight,
He will die and struggle,
He will die with no memory.

Does it matter if you knew him?
Or that you know it happens everyday?
Is this what you want for Earth?
Is this what you want for yourself?

Perfect Soldiers.

And the hell hounds will bite him,
The angels will hold in their arms,
Caring not whether he loses or wins,
Not caring about all possible harm.

He likes being expendable with strength,
The orders and the exploding sounds,
Devoted to one duty to any length,
Rising when fate beats him to the ground.

Abaddon,

Go to the place where men once fought,
The depths of hell and the image of fear,
The peace and prosperity these men sought,
So that their children will live another year.

The apple is black as Eve once picked,
And Adam watched by in pitched quiet,
Humanity is the stonewalled conflict,
War is the abyss awaiting riot.

We we live and we will forget the past,
As we draw power from it and not it from us,
We struggle to understand the contrast,
So we pray to be forever blessed.