Hand of the Wicked

In pestilence and vanity A revelation of the unclean Oh, how thy flesh forgives Tainted fruit that

I beseech you to return to me Where the oceans meet the air And withstand the passage of centuries Pour my

He stood, and measured The earth The perpetual hills Did bow A life appraised In nations

Let the earth keep silence before him As blood spills upon the floor The door that finally opens Eons

He shall lay his hand upon them And cleanse thy face with blood Before the sun I kneel no more Within the