Kossuth - Altar of the Sun

A top the summit, my eyes trace the mountainside
Gusts of rain and wind on torches, illuminating the night
A starless and blackened endeavor is my descent along the mountain
Taking heed to falling rain, knowing it well to be my last

Rope saturated with rain and sweat, abrading my wrists
With limbs dragged through entrails and bone

The people await me at the foot of the temple, each calling
Calling for my blood, to feed the earth
Mirrored statues preside over the foot of the temple,
Each bearing torch in hand

The flames engulfing my vision
Mictlan, Mictlan, My fate you have foreseen

Closer, Brighter, The mantra swells in fury
Obsidian grasped by darkness masked, the altar stands abhorring
Bound by rope, deafened by fear
The frigid stone greets my torso, as raw and biting as the wind

Alas, the eyes of the masses are upon me
To bestow the wrath of their bludgeoning sacrament

This vessel to feed the earth, plasma flowing through every channel
Trickling through the temple, to saturate the soil for eternity

Closer, Brighter, The mantra swells in fury
Obsidian grasped by darkness masked, the altar stands abhorring
Bound by rope, deafened by fear
The frigid stone greets my torso, as raw and biting as the wind

A great energy surrounds the temple, imbuing its essence within the stone
Aura growing, rainfall deafening, the equilibrium shifts
Accept this sacrifice upon our people, atop our highest peak