péchés dans l'art

A sound of the wars in our stars...

I heard of a land above the stars.
Were killers are born
and lovers are scarred.
Strung in beautiful lights of blinding pain.
Standing terrible effigies of tormented shame.
I heard of a land above the stars.
They brandish their swords and coats of arms.
Were blood runs deep of sons and mother's.
The joyous cheers of dueling brother's.
I heard of a land above the stars.
Inside they scrape across the bars.
Falling on knees to serve the father.
Hanging the dead, in streets with honor.
I heard of a land above the stars.
Someday we will go there...
Someday…
it will be ours...
-angel's dream of the world-