At a crossroads we stand,

Our heels in the sand,

A decision weighs heavily,

On our soon-reborn band.

Two roads stretch ahead,

As the histories said.

One beckons brightly,

While the other lies dead.

Most choose the light,

And feel not contrite,

For those they detest,

Walk only in night.

Comfort’s in wait,

For those in this strait,

So few choose the other.

Thus, we segregate.

We who choose gloom,

Fear not the tomb,

Or the uproar of zealots,

That warn of our doom.

We ride for those,

On whom the doors close.

 We draw inspiration,

From a past virtuose.

We ride for the hope,

That we need not cope,

With the hatred and fear,

Of facing the rope.

Let this be clear,

We’ve not escaped fear,

But we will not surrender,

For our freedom is near.

Here endeth the reign,

Of horror and bane.

Follow, true brethren,

 Into darkness, we ride again.