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The Throne Of Tragedy

From this day forth
are the heights of Horeb broken
and the sea of sulphur

And blasphemy!
in heaven's chambers:
Souls had fled their halls
and closed was the book of life.
And behold!
The great, white throne:
with sacred blood.

Our father-
Dead by his own hands:
an epitaph
worthy no king.

And so is everything
a nameless lie.
Who, my god,
am I?

Man knows me
as Lucifer, the serpent of old.
The wretched hold my banner high.
Your gift
-all life!-
I grant a grave.
Yet I am not your death.

Come carry forth the crown
to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease
-but alas: I am crowned
in grief unheard of!

In this lone monarchy
-without friend or foe-
I greet the morning sun
with strife and a song:
Please speak my name!
And leave me not
in the dust of death.

I am weighed down
beneath the tragedy crown,-
and alone,
a fatherless son.


The Throne Of Tragedy / Arcturus

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