Wayward Verities - Crimfall

For dark was the night

And full of banes

Dawns thrive in light

Spring reeks of change

Boil blood of reform

Throats finding voice

Red taste of freedom

Where once was no choice

Reign free

It is the new dawn

Truth to be the last

Call no man free

Until he falls for higher belief

More pure than virgin’s grief

Harness the order

Truth overwhelmed

Rotten are the branches

On hollow tree of realm

Barkskin of unrest

We flay from this elm

On nothing he dances

Tyrant condemned

Reign free

Quiescent mind belying reason

Attire me on scarred licit mask

My throne of clay and funeral wax