Prometheus I: Aether - Xenobiotic

Upon the precipice

Of the towering pulpit of the Earth

Above the ruins of the broken dream of creation

The tyrants of old demand of all things

Reverence they do nothing to deserve

Perpetual hunger devouring mortal souls and flesh

The children of creation suffer

Slowly awaiting certain death

Watching a world void of light

Crumbling to dust before their eyes

Shall I honour you?

What for?

Have you softened the pains of burden?

Have you silenced the tears of anguish?

O holiest of burning hearts