Tribe Of Neptune : Gnosis

Ambiant Black / Greece
(2010 - Razorbleed Productions)
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1. THE SEEDS OF PHILOSOPHY

Oh... the chill of that strange wind...
Whispered words from branch and leaf
And the starlit stones all cast their seed
While the moon stands faded within.

A question never raised before,
Haunting the minds of the virtuous.
The man of knowledge lurks behind,
For a glimpse to feed all thought.

Timeless skies behold their eyes,
Hungry yet forlorn...
Lost, in search of cause
In the fields of the unknown.

Mighty figures taking shape,
Withholding all fate.
All wisdom carved upon the stars,
To remain...

A depth never perceived before,
Enthroned above a silent shore...
...Whispering suspicions
Of a man's soul...

So he stood at the edge of the cliff,
Beholding majesty but craving for more.


2. MISLED

A shadow crept through scattered bones,
A tale told by blood stained stones.
Distorted shapes form at the edge of perception,
No rain may wash away the memory of deception.


3. AWARENESS

Blinded by hope, devoid of reason
We stretched the rope to our mind's prison.
Consciousness guarded by symbols engraved,
Promising glory for the weak and depraved.

But as we wander at the dawn of the season,
That wind blows again revealing the treason
To those that never desired to be saved,
Unveiling the sight of mankind ... enslaved.

In silence he walks away from his grail,
Eaten by rust it now seemed too frail.
The sun may shine no more on this land,
All faith's creation dissolves back to sand.

He runs through corridors of the life he led,
Thousands of images all hung by a thread,
Each with new meaning disturbing and rude
To shake the foundations of evil and good.

Our cosmic sense dispersed
In Lethean waters.
Our vision narrowed,
Tainted by truth...

..Tthe aftermath of self deceit.

Kind shepherd gather your sheep
Offer them their oh so desired martyrdom,
Their heaven and their hell.
You shall die from within.


4. IN VAIN?

A shadow crept through scattered bones,
A tale told by blood stained stones.
Distorted shapes form at the edge of perception,
No rain may wash away the memory of deception.

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