w.o.k.e souls

Invocation
We gather where the tide forgets its name, masked breath within the thurible of dusk, palms open like empty chalices for what the night anoints ��.
A single drum admits the heart, then binds it, as if a vow were hammered into water and taught to hold its shape ��.
Call it devotion, or the hush that follows thunder; either way, the body kneels before the music it becomes ��.
Here, fear is a candle with a learning flame, taking lessons in how to bloom into something that will not scorch the hand that carries it ��.Verse I
Moonlight writes sigils across the skin, and every scar reads yes in a language older than breath ��.
Name the shadow, and the shadow bows; name the wound, and it opens into a door with patient hinges ��.
Under the ribs, a choir of iron and salt rehearses hymns it learned from storms, breaking and remaking the shore’s idea of itself ��.
If a mask is mercy, let it shelter the face until the soul remembers how to look back without flinching ��.Pre‑Chorus
O Love that wheels the spheres, lean close enough to teach these mortal eyes a wider dawn ��.
O Order bright as breath before a prayer, let chaos find its choreography within Your tide ��.Chorus
Lift me through the tenfold heavens—Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, fixed stars, the swift Primum Mobile—to the fireless country of Your light �.
Where justice speaks with many throats as one, let mercy be the meter and the law the lullaby that finally lets the heart sleep �.
If every beat is a rung and every rest a gate, then let this song climb until silence flowers into sight ��.
Take me past the tomb of what I was, into the Empyrean where wanting ends in wonder �.Verse II
There is a city inside the pulse where memory and prophecy share a room and trade lanterns at the window ��.
Poe taught the bell to count the soul by color and cold, so the chorus rings in silver, then iron, then gold ��.
What breaks returns as pattern; what drowns returns as breath; what grieves returns as grammar for a brighter tongue ��.
And still the rite goes on—hands steady, voices low—until the mask feels like a sunrise facing inward ��.Bridge
If there is hunger that no bread can soothe, feed it with vision, and teach the eyes to bear the blaze ��.
If there is night that no lantern reaches, send the star that sings of home inside the ribs ��.Final Chorus
Lift me through the tenfold heavens—Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, fixed stars, the swift Primum Mobile—to the fireless country of Your light �.
Where justice speaks with many throats as one, let mercy be the meter and the law the lullaby that finally lets the heart sleep �.
If every beat is a rung and every rest a gate, then let this song climb until silence flowers into sight ��.
Take me past the tomb of what I was, into the Empyrean where wanting ends in wonder �.Coda
Leave the mask upon the altar and the name upon the sea; what rises now is only breath learning to be flame ��.
And in that flame, a calm eternal 

sleep token rock singing, fluid shifts between alternative/progressive metal, post-rock ambience, and soulful/poetic rap