"To watch," is to wait, up for any classical debate.
To create, to sedate, those Fallen shale awake.
While back at home, the two that fell.
There names were Lucifer & Sam, souls they sell.
Follow the trail, the yellow brick road.
Created a hybrid race, who walk the Earth, to and fro.
On the low, on the creep, the Pit amounts to His will.
Drink of the Babylonian cup, here is your fill.
For the thrill, for the high, our rites amount to toil.
The sand that washes down, while deep down, the soil.
Curl like a snake, suffocate, after we bait.
The temptation feels fake, the Sun that burns and bakes.
Align with their wills, may their Kingdom then come.
Originally from Aquila, paired with Orion that chases the Bun.
For fun, to shun, the light pours through.
Our souls are black, with wings, we then flew.
In which, the Neteru Tribe, they will be.
A mark on their forehead, third eye see.
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