Mouth of The Architect

The Priestess

Mouth of The Architect


You stand before the great red horizon
With a spinning dark mess ever at your black
Of there is nothing left to fear

The past is behind you 
Now your path will soon be clear
Three moons align with the sun
And the mountains fall

A of death beckons you will you heed its call
I present you this choice 
The hourglass is set
One hand bathed in blood
The other wrapped in fire