We do not pray any more,

For the Angels walk the Earth,

Wrathful and jealous,

Instead we sing in sorrow,

For the World That Was.

The trees were full of green leaves,

Drinking the sun, rustling with quiet mirth,

In the World That Was.

Now they are full of eyes, watching, wary,

The Angels’ sentinels,

Beware he who would stare back with insolence!

The birds were colorful gems of the skies,

Graceful minstrels, messengers of joy,

In the World That Was.

Now they are sharp arrows,

Perpetually gliding, waiting to pierce,

And skewer he who speaks blasphemy.

The sun was the fire of life,

The engine of creation,

In the World That Was.

Now it is a nothingness,

That fills a sky like phantom pain,

We are decreed unworthy of light.

We are the chorus, one thousand thousand,

The last singers of proud mankind,

Longing for the heaven,

That was the World That Was.