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The thrust of thorns cautious

As dust settles upon the thrones

Woven in the reddened temple

Phantoms to skim the void

Mankind frozen in spheres of sense

Hideous dance to clouded dawn

The Unworshipped are they

Now faded to gray

The Unworshipped are we

Unending blasphemy

An earth born to blindness

For realms widow the mind impulse

Wounded long by the human calm

From its woe spills the clouds

Gleaming on the corpse of sunset

Twilight dulls the glass grave of god

Colossal in earthen roots embrace now

For in a heart of vipers sleeps the noose

Longing for the shroud of black chapels unseen

We seek not a consequence from stones turned

The Unworshipped are you