God Hand Lyrics

See the man
cursed by the God Hand,
born of a corpse
into a life of violence,
mindless and meaningful.

He followed the white hawk
with the egg of the king—
the crimson behelit
and the devil's own luck.

The Idea of Evil laid his
destiny
before him:
cursed by fate
and a puppet
in the hands of incomprehensible will.

How lucky was Lucifer
in his time?
The bearer of light
cast into hell.

And how did his followers fair
when his rebellion came to naught?

Could it have been any other way?

In this world
is man able to possess anything
more solid
than a dream?

Before the end
he will kill hundreds
—the innocent and
the righteous and
the guilty—
and he will suffer and he will love.

The brand bleeds
down his neck,
the struggler.

The story is already written
whether we read it or not.

Yet reality is even more cruel
than the God Hand,
for no malice guides our destinies
and the Idea of Evil is a fiction.

In this world
there is only cosmic indifference
and scales we cannot fathom.