God’s Scythe

A Holzkopf Production Lyrics: Wind in the furrows. A blade closes in – unseen – yet felt. Man, thou who turnest the black earth, thou who guidest the plough under the burning sun – hear the words of the Eternal through us, His instruments. Foolish is he who weepeth for the mortal! From dust thou wast taken, and unto dust shalt thou return. What thou callest thine –was never thine. Only a loan for the span of your life. ALL IS VANITY! The wind bloweth it away, and it is gone. what thou graspest crumbles in thy hand. Nothing abideth forever under this sun. We are not misfortune, we are - God’s Scythe, the Reapers sent at the appointed time. We ask not after rank nor riches, neither after wit nor folly. The king falleth like the servant, the rich man like the poor, for “one fate cometh to all”. The grass withereth, the rose fadeth, the blood runneth out, the glass shattereth – all things submit themselves unto us. Behold thy brethren, how they dig in the dust, how they heap up treasures, consumed by moth and rust, how they build towers as though they could stand forever. And thou weepest as though thou wert the first who must appear before us. All that thou lovest is already falling. What thou holdest fleeth from thee. What standeth too long rotteth and falleth – a time to sow, and a time to reap. Who art thou? Even the kings have fallen before us. Not one remained. And now thou standest here – as all of them once stood. Judge thou thine own work – but not over us, we who bring thee to an end. Now cease thy lamentation. It hath no place. Live thy life and let go. The living to life, the dead to death. Thou shalt find only what perishes. And come… Let us step together before the timeless Eye, the Allmighty God. Generator: Suno