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