The Alchemist - Heaven's Cry

In a strange gallery, an old man’s work takes form

Illuminated by a candle, his visions light the dome

In a sea of immortals, his soul will be sown

As the universe will be pleased to welcome its new son

Four species were his prey

In the fields of the odds, from the world of unknown

Took the blood out of their bodies

And had the purest goal, to blend it with his own

The alchemist’s work is done

To procreate without a form

And his death had been mourned

The creatures are left on their own

In the valley near their father’s corpse

No language they ever learn

No answers spoken from the icon

Not a word

The death of their creator left them mutated

A look in their eyes shows the beast inside

Alone they would’ve built, together they destroy

And duality begins to possess their minds

Soul alike, they will fight until the end of their lives

For democracy, hypocrisy, democracy, hypocrisy

Demon’s creation

They’re in for war and they set for Vietnam

If they don’t try to accept others' differences

In any situation, they’re in for religion, inquisition

To live and to kill under new institutions

In any way

The fact the gifts they received from the sage

Are the will to decide of what’s wrong or right

And the need to understand through individuality

But they lean towards destruction

Took over creation, became philosophy

A narrow-minded eagle that won’t expand its horizon

One of them created a thought-box

To regulate security

And to create a limited universe

A mentality formed into one’s dream

Preventing the last war’s doll

Building fences, suppressing thoughts

He trapped the others inside a cage

So they could breathe from the same wind

But the box held the wind at bay?