True Names

The Logos in the Logolo
The sigil in the sight
All the dreams of fleeting worlds
The words fade into night
Temporal aeons come and go
In the nonspace of the mind
All the world, in a naught shell
Waiting for the end of time

But break free, from tinting lens we can
Undamn the gis-hur and the ME
Create from order, chaos born
And bring about the promised day
All of time is naught but sand
And all of man is clay
Create from chaos, order, born
And bring about the promised day

The water of the abzu's heart
The diamond in the ash
The maklu in the winter's dark
The comma and the slash
But still, from gaia's broken heart
And broken womb we can
Regain ourselves, and with us hope
For dilmun, eden, promised land

For now we see through a glass, darkly
Till one greater man restore us
And regain the blissful fruit
Born out of chaos
And justify the way of gods to men