Covet ire, scabbard empty Wounded-warrior, fool Emblazoned indignation writs Does it have to be you? Shoulder arcs, dagger turns, eclipsing Sun to plunge Flag above the zeitgeist Hand and pommel draw near into amalgamation Spire in storm, it is fowling This is reckoning Phantom strides inside the mire Blade clashes in the glade And I the spectre wound the pyre marketh by thy name Burn you whole, to my Eden To your envy's gaze Shoulder arcs, dagger turns, eclipse the Sun to plunge High above the steeple Hand and pommel draw near into amalgamation Spire in storm, fetter in rage This is reckoning Phantom strides inside the mire Blade clashes in the glade And I the spectre wound the pyre marketh by thy name Burn you whole, to my Eden, to your envy's gaze