letra de awaiting bellerophon - empyrvore
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the fleeting gods demand chimaera;
you sacrifice your blood to the illusion
not for their sins – but to prove how far
you’ve fallen into the abyssal mire
eager for the end to your narcissistic hubris
as you celebrate the betrayal of love and duty
when your dominance is over, we will gather
the remaining amalgam and provide salve for their wounds
so i hide my hatred behind this mask
while we wait for bellerophon –
for gabriel to sound his trumpet;
the sweet call of the gjallarh-rn
i wish you ill tidings in your grotesque pantomime
i wish you ill tidings in your grotesquery
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