cRoSS rOaDs

How great... or how vainly average
every passing moment in time
In the ire of a post Collision stillness
Inaction will be our only crime

Reinventing the steel
to dig out our humble bloody roots
and see what we're really made of.

spilling out our guts
in the face of this volcanic wind
And witness what we're here for

No Religion's no more an authentication
of mass manufactured human souls
No standards to validate our motivations
self destruction's become our only goal