Quiet lies the soil of dawn's wake The fields await it still, dead-like, frozen Gray dim shades slowly flow by hidden Like a veils umbra they stir beyond notice The transition has begun Only a warrior's blessing will do The ritual's outcome depends on it Affecting all who strive to see the heavens From nowhere they appear into the open Visible at once to the vulture's sight Force jargon adaption, lined up to oblivion Tied to one fate and one fate alone As the air thickens they come alive Another cane placed in the sand Sinking as it's eaten to immersion Wood turned into liquid gold The polygon of strivers take form in the far distance Nothing but the turn of squealing wheels is perceived This one has seen through the worst of hailstorms and fires Still it keeps forming trails everywhere it turns The carriage is moving the load of the lost From the several that have heard it rumble Sickness has left its soul mark upon those Who've come too close or crossed its path Long have they traveled yet they've only covered the harder ground Numbers have been put to past, and there are many more to forget Onward the carriage rolls just to see a meaningless journey's end The rise of the seven suns Spawn the beams in stale sot Scraping the remains from the virgin skull There is nothing emptiness can't fill