Basileia Ton Ouranon
The sun beats down upon me as I climb
I long for somebody to shade my mind
And all that's left is doubt
It's all that I think about
Riddles and rhymes shuffle around
Visions of blackness burn the ground
And all that's left is fear
It's all that I can hear
No more chains
No more stains
He died today
This son of Cain
All that's left is grace
It's all that I can taste
Writer/s: Jonathan Jackson
