The Prophecy - Soulsplitter

Turn your heads

Open your ears

For darkest fears

Have turned to threats

Your kin has lost its will to live

Its will to die, its will to give —

Back to where all is coming from

Your mother’s heart, your father’s tongue

A sickness is taking all your best

A trick to keep you powerless

And Gaia weeps, her soul is broken

Eight billion shards, not quite awoken

The dying goddess calls for help

Her cry has reached the upper realms

To turn history into hers

To change the course of our world