The Sacrifice

At a tender age
By the High Priest chosen
As the fairest maiden, from her parents taken
In the hands of shamen
For the great initiation

For many months it never rained;
The fields were dry, the wells were drained
The barren land would yield no game;
The people looked to lay the blame
The elders hung theirs heads in shame
The harvest failed again and again

Living in her dreams filled with nature's delight
Dancing in the streams in the dappled sunlight

The beacons glow across the hill
To summon folk to watch the ritual
Her heart begins to pound, she cannot make a sound
Feet frozen to the ground, with ashen face
Her purpose now is known, the horror hitting home
They lead her to the stone, her fate awaits
The sacrifice; venerate the Master
The sacrifice; blood awake the Master
The sacrifice...

Cold slab of slate the altar; the blade that must not falter
The swaying candles dance, the chanting turns to trance
The ground begins to shake - the sleeping beast awake

Emerge ye spectral ghosts, take shape ye thunderous hosts
Oh Lord of death and birth, we invoke from the earth

She lives on in their dreams, in every ripe seed of grain
Still dancing in the streams, in every droplet of rain

Laid out for all to see - no struggle to be free
Her final memory - there's no escape
Her garments are torn off, her yielding flesh is soft
The knife is held aloft to consummate
The sacrifice; (venerate the Master!)
The sacrifice; (blood awake the Master!)
The sacrifice....