Oh yes, you can hear them now,

The soft commanding voices echoing through the wind,

Leading you towards blasphemy,

Catapulting you into a world of sin,

But as the fire resides and the drought is lifted,

Will you find forgiveness in a ravaged land?

Or will you burn once again,

Turning glass into pearl-white sand?

The horrors of this life, this world,

Rest upon the cracked cement of your doorstep,

As the fragmented pieces of reality

Slip away from you and the secrets you've kept.

The fragile ripping of time's canvas screen,

Causes the boundaries for dreams to disappear;

As your fears materialize into demonic form,

Our calls for help fall upon your deaf ears,

And you realize just what you've done,

Turning lives into playgrounds for Satan's son.