Ism

We've suffered endlessly, bleeding what we believe

Our faction, the dying breath of sanity

Keep the blue flame alive inside our hearts and minds

Never losing sight of what we have

These wounds, so deep and slow to heal,

Exile isn't tantamount to our destruction

Reject the world you know

The same hands used to bleed as to feed

Its dexterous fingers carefully constricting the carotid

Pry open pineal carapace, flayed

Subconscious resistances assuaged

This influx, inviolate

We are thus marked apparitions of perdition

Activate the final nexus, thus begins our surge

Cascading, oculist rendered asunder

Absolve them of their ignorance

We, branded by charlatans as traitors

Invoke this sedition openly

Adversaries fall one by one

We're all that's left, i feel the burning inside

Through conflagration, our souls now match the sky

Psionicism

Ism