Mouth of The Architect - The Priestess

You stand before the great red horizon
With a spinning dark mess ever at your black
Of there is nothing left to fear

The past is behind you
Now your path will soon be clear
Three moons align with the sun
And the mountains fall

A of death beckons you will you heed its call
I present you this choice
The hourglass is set
One hand bathed in blood
The other wrapped in fire