Accolade Songtext
von Regna

The moonrise is reaching this torn, tired ground
Veil of mist
Arranging a colorless cloak in the sky
Moving closer
I shall leave

Pursuing the traces of smoke lost in time
Cleansing promise
We′re following blindly the shadows of dawn
Shifting further
Is it real or an illusion
Spraying from above?
Are we just a herd of
Pawns on higher grounds?


My eyes in dust
My hands are bound
My throat is tied
My thoughts are drowned
Here I stay, wondering if I
Had to go, facing deadlocks
Every door I open

Blazing lights
In the distance
Deafening sounds
Hazy view
Blood flowing
Through the cracks
Of this broken land
When did our conscience go unheard?
Have we reached the point of no return?

Ashes in the field
Sea of grey tranquility
Burying our sins
Deep
So deep

Over the darkened hills
Shy sunlight bathes over the scene
Tearing me from sleep
Into reality


I saw through screens of dust
A diffuse silhouette taking form
Skin was pale as salt
Echoes of an empty voice

Another battle
Leaving nothing but shells
Idle marionettes
Straight into nothingness
Their disguise is what's left, shallow as their pretext

Riding a vaporous horse
Through the distressing scene, she dissolved
Barely felt her touch
And fell from an ethereal dream
Within a dichotomy

Thousand dirty golden wings
Carry a hollow sphere

Marching slowly, rusty chains, I feel their pain
All we trust is all we have left in this world
A world where we are only what we have been sold
We′re all alone

Then the rather empty light above our heads is gone
We made our bet for a hopeful reward
Ignoring all we were for what still had to come
The vast unknown

Then it will be too late
To rest our tired shoulders
Late, just to understand
We're the ones to blame
We mislead our way

The sunrise is reaching this torn, tired ground
Soothing breeze
Relieving the colorless cloak in the sky
Slowly fading
Shall I
Speak, though I have no voice
Shall I turn blind, accept the defeat
Will I find relief
Living in hypocrisy?
To fulfill our vilest needs
Trusting in our own reprieve
We have built the great deceit
Self-convincing as it is
A society's disease
Suicidal constellations