The Wretched Sounds

I feel nothing as the
Irreversible takes place

Will we ever get our deliverance?
Why must this come to pass
As they bask in the dissonance?

Beckoning whatever lies beneath
An offering amassed around the mouth of the endless deep
Assembled to conduct the deafening sermon
Are you all blind to this portent of ruin?

The fires distorted by unearthly tension
Awed by the wretched sounds of upheaval afar
I cannot fathom what's to come after the
Din rips through the air

Oh, they stand before me. Palms held high
To herald the Profane. Jutting peaks
Illuminate the long forgotten altar
As soil and sky align

Engulfed in light, they harmonize

I feel nothing as the
Irreversible takes place
All sense of meaning cast aside
And reason gone to waste

Will we ever get our deliverance?
Why must this come to pass
As they bask in the dissonance?

Bare witness as they coalesce

So, it's come to this? I feel nothing
All sense of meaning
Cast aside and gone to waste