I touch you
and through you
I experiencing
the reflections
of all Gods

I step out into the void
and amidst the sandstorm
I call out the names
of all i read on your skin

And now
there is no way back
My fate is bounded
to the elderly tokens
that rule these worlds

The ages have stamped
with blood and that was inevitably
From the annihiliation
a flower always sprouts
The sought gates of the Purgatory
will always be inside
our innermost lust for power

Many talked about the aftermath
Who will accumulate the souls?
Who will take over the segragation
between the ''corrupted''
and the ''virtuous''?

Sentries sent by Warlords of yore
often call in to see if i still endure
And i grin at them and
share with my fellow ghosts
the bitterness of truth