Lascaille's Shroud - The Gold Flesh of the Sun

Set forth into the sun
Into the light of our mother
No return from this warmth
Our first respite from the cold

"Good dream? Let me guess, the surface of the sun?
The only dream I ever have. Every time I shut my eyes it's always the same."

Scorched deep by beaming light
Turn our lungs to ash
Every breath always a labor
Every step always a struggle

Placate our pain with waves
Our final words gone unspoken
Reach out and touch our gravest failures
Ease our hearts with the fluttering of wings

Protest until the end our certain fates
Quietly resign life to the warmth of the sun

Placate our pain in waves
Reach out and touch our gravest failures
Ease our hearts with the fluttering of wings
We will not survive this

No yearning for our lives to be remembered
Desperate for them to just have had meaning
Drowned in the fires, buried in the cold
Please take our lives and give us purpose