The Pilgrimage - Miasmal

See them walking tirelessly

Searching for a purpose in life

The sickening ways of their kin

They had to leave behind

The rumours of another way

Far from this world gone astray

Line up

March on

One will

Follow or begone

The new sun is rising

Over a world wrecked and torn

Push relentlessly forward

No time to mourn

Approaching the gates of the temple

A worship of a new kind

Murmurs echo between the walls

Prayers from diseased minds

A silent grin or a longing sigh

The blades flash it's time to die

The new sun is rising

Over a world wrecked and torn

At the ground lays the remnants

Of the longing to be reborn

The search is over

A gruesome display

They found their truth

No price too high to pay

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