The Pilgrimage - Miasmal
See them walking tirelessly
Searching for a purpose in life
The sickening ways of their kin
They had to leave behind
The rumours of another way
Far from this world gone astray
Line up
March on
One will
Follow or begone
The new sun is rising
Over a world wrecked and torn
Push relentlessly forward
No time to mourn
Approaching the gates of the temple
A worship of a new kind
Murmurs echo between the walls
Prayers from diseased minds
A silent grin or a longing sigh
The blades flash it's time to die
The new sun is rising
Over a world wrecked and torn
At the ground lays the remnants
Of the longing to be reborn
The search is over
A gruesome display
They found their truth
No price too high to pay