Fall, so shall we fall into the nihil? The nothingness that we feel in the arms of the pale In the shadow of the grim companion who walks with us Here is the landscape Here is the sun Here in the balance of the earth Where is the god? Has he fallen and abandoned us? As I'm stalked by the shadow of death's hand The fire in my heart is forged across the land Here at the edge of this world Here I gaze at a pantheon of oak, a citadel of stone If this grand panorama before me is what you call God Then God is not dead I walked down to a river and sat in reflection of what had to be done An offering of crimson flowed into the water below A wound of spirit from which it floated and faded away