Armored feet charge across the fields

Colliding into blades, rammed by battered shields

Possessed by their doctrine, humbled by divinity

Puppets of a holy state, but the Shepherd pulls the strings

Raised within conformity, confined by supposed purity

Now a man bleeds under the sun, all judgement, no mercy

They follow the code, they thrive for meaning

One remains stoic, seek their own healing

Autumn soon breaks, harvest’s end is near

Winter only decimates, induces struggle and fear

Mind constantly races, alerted by unknown

The children play innocent, but still they feed the crows

One’s life is chance, a gamble against sin

No matter the play, the Shepherd always wins

Let the gospel speak, the divine will guide

The brave will seek blood, the smart will hide

Weakness reveals, puritan colors

The sick soon discarded, no hope or a mother

His eyes lie upon you

An escape unfounded in reality

The conscience fights itself, coping shown easy

Such feelings do divine, yet spiral into self-destruction

Their actions drive emulation

The body cannot be a temple without foundation

Recovery breeds recovery, retrieve what’s been lost

With her love, you will be strong

Let the master speak, the words will guide

It burns to accept what was never divine

A world of unknown, a world breeding sinners

War substitutes rationality, upheld by discomfort

The sheep flock to those who predict the winners

The Shepherd preaches, the seed of chaos grows its roots

Spring shines on their corpses, bodies that once breathed

Dreams and ambitions

Snuffed by a promise built on being hollow

The Shepherd walks among the blossoms

A cycle for dead dreams, once again complete

They return for what was promised, for what was never gained

Rising from their own wake, convicted to kill delusions

Take the Shepherd, burn his livelihood

Cut down the false apostle, denounce his vices

They witness his fall, the sheep left to their own devices

Only abandonment finds the puppetsArmored feet charge across the fields

Colliding into blades, rammed by battered shields

Possessed by their doctrine, humbled by divinity

Puppets of a holy state, but the Shepherd pulls the strings

Raised within conformity, confined by supposed purity

Now a man bleeds under the sun, all judgement, no mercy

They follow the code, they thrive for meaning

One remains stoic, seek their own healing

Autumn soon breaks, harvest’s end is near

Winter only decimates, induces struggle and fear

Mind constantly races, alerted by unknown

The children play innocent, but still they feed the crows

One’s life is chance, a gamble against sin

No matter the play, the Shepherd always wins

Let the gospel speak, the divine will guide

The brave will seek blood, the smart will hide

Weakness reveals, puritan colors

The sick soon discarded, no hope or a mother

His eyes lie upon you

An escape unfounded in reality

The conscience fights itself, coping shown easy

Such feelings do divine, yet spiral into self-destruction

Their actions drive emulation

The body cannot be a temple without foundation

Recovery breeds recovery, retrieve what’s been lost

With her love, you will be strong

Let the master speak, the words will guide

It burns to accept what was never divine

A world of unknown, a world breeding sinners

War substitutes rationality, upheld by discomfort

The sheep flock to those who predict the winners

The Shepherd preaches, the seed of chaos grows its roots

Spring shines on their corpses, bodies that once breathed

Dreams and ambitions

Snuffed by a promise built on being hollow

The Shepherd walks among the blossoms

A cycle for dead dreams, once again complete

They return for what was promised, for what was never gained

Rising from their own wake, convicted to kill delusions

Take the Shepherd, burn his livelihood

Cut down the false apostle, denounce his vices

They witness his fall, the sheep left to their own devices

Only abandonment finds the puppets