Everything that is beautiful is falling

Oh master, master of the night and the sun, come on the day we bow ourselves.
Before all, before the millions.
Let me be your choice, let me be the scourge of your hand.
You Who offer the sword.
Wake up the war inside me and I'll be your voice.
Oh Sacrossant Venerable.
I walked on the edges of the world, it will be so dark for them that a spark launched will be like the awakening of dawn.
I see the cross bathed in Your tearful blood.
You have brought the eternal eclipse for all to contemplate the scarlet epitaph.
Look at me and I'll be the wound on the iconoclastic.
Let me be your will in the winds of your words.
I, the temple of Your knowledge.
The witness of this choice, the suffering consequences.
The eternal silence will fall to crush the abyss.
I saw the lifeless serpent, I witnessed its surrender.
Its faceless body is a shadow forgotten in the dark.
Curled up in its tomb built on lies.
Its name will always be nothing.
From God, the judgment of all, justified condemnation.
Every stone thrown at You will build Your throne.
Let me be the scourge of Your hands.
The tip of the spear faces down.
To undo, to punish.
The wound that will never heal.
Every voice pronounces Your name.
I, who reduce myself, I who bow myself.
Hiding my face from the dread of Your greatness.
Extending your arms of calamity, I see the hands of all the horrors.

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