Under clouds of Godless skies, the state of nature is taking shape As the storm of instinct churns, painted heavens fade away, When the truth begets a lie, who will save our splintered lives? When the soul is nevermore, will we rise above the void? Is this life our meaningless fate A pointless succession of days? With only what the world conceives Man, alone, and nothing more Survival of our will is fought In empty, cold eternity In days devoid of afterlife The time of man is put to test Now we must find our way Aimlessly through this dark maze No guides or watchful eyes Help us to find our purpose To live alone and die alone As seeds upon this earthly tree Where final judgment is man's ideal And divination a fading dream. The human game, overtly clear Survive or self-annihilate For those as pawns become the kings The board is set: now make your move Is this life our meaningless fate A pointless succession of days?