We walk this path of beaten stone
For ever feeling more alone
Under the eyes of gods we march
In step,
Following a thousand hearts of rithm
Slaves of a will
We've never been aware of.

We march, our faces ashen
Our eyes glaring in the lust of hate
Our hearts ever closer
As we aproach the end.

For life is but a mere glimpse
Of the eternal bliss or pain
And as you play your strings
Upon us,
I see that yet,
With life as just a shadow,
With death but a promise
We, still, as humans are alive
And you as gods, are dead.