The Sentinel by Jakub Zielinski

Our Brotherhood, keeps looking at the door...

Letís be prepared
Sisters and Brothers in Wait
On Devilís arrival
This bloody crook
Hidden under skin of useless words

Heíll fake our feelings
Blur best instincts
And allow to play for a while
With Black and White Queen
Making a temptation of life after life

Then heíll take out our faith
And lock in old room
Behind wall of sadness and secrets
Surrounded by midgetís tribe
Of our conscience and past

So letís call on this chair
A patient sentinel
With a key to seal
Of oblivion gates...

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