Album: Apokálypsis - Unveiling The Age That Is Not To Come (2011)

Before The Throne Of The Demiurge

C'est aux cieux que nos chimères nous lancinent
Craignant la renaissance imminente
Car réintégré à nouveau dans le corps et la chair
Ce n'est pas seulement l''me qui est martyrisée
The uncertainty of the existence of an afterlife
Is not the worst thing that haunts the human psyche
Imagine travelling to the realm of the Demiurge
The creator of all misery in this life and beyond
Staring in the hate filled eye of darkness itself
To have that eye stare back at you
Fulfilling you with knowledge of what awaits
Beyond the gates of death with redemption denied
There is no compassionate, mild judge to plea to
Only an executioner wallowing in blood thirst
The blood being yours, waiting to be released
From that vein pulsing nervously in your neck
You consciously dream, bathing in sweat
Yet closer to reality you have ever been
Revealing the destiny of this flawed world
To be destroyed by its own malevolent creator