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seraph in travail – empires to servitude lyrics

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for the rain, the abundance, the fruit of earth in plenty
to molech the tyrant all cainan brings their seed
wherefore upon his outstretched hands
do they p-ss their firstborn sons and daughters to the fire of his greed

a dissonant band of flutes and tamborines crowds around his brazen shrine
masking the sacrificial shrieks of infants offered up
by parents who, if they heard the child’s agony
might pluck them hence, deprive the fire god, and so induce his rage

but does the smoldering of flesh and crackling bone
coax him to show forth his grace
or does the number of mouths he silences
lessen the demand for bread

from carthage to sidon his topeths blacken thus
to make fertile lands and strengthen hands alike in war and peace
but as israel’s hosts approach their gates how many mighty sons go forth?
what hero stands to slake the blade and blunt the fall of yahweh’s wrath?

oh champion who never stood
has all our hope been slain with you?

despise the honor of maternity, upon fatherhood a curse
unto hedon the liar bring all thy days of youth
for pride of life and l-st of flesh pursuit of pleasure sweet yet
than tender selfless toil, yes, than the breath of life given anew

what more can the vacuum devour?
to what less can these crushing tongues reduce?
mothers to maidens, the fruitful to barren
empires to servitude

from nineteen-hundred and seventy-three, their blood flows un-ssuaged
drained from cradles, wombs, and mothers arms to fill the land of the dead
i watch as parents file forth to give them up for lost
filling the ranks and nameless rosters of seven holocausts

has all our hope been slain with you?
oh champion who never stood

- seraph in travail lyrics

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