Gospel in blood

Reveal my question - what's the meaning of this life?
Some say, it's similar to a stunning flight
Others claim, it may end in a journey to the regular deadend

Those fragile wings, they're burnt by the sun so cold
And thus won't make you fly, no, nevermore!
And that cold-cold sun, where would it find it's rest?
Somewhere far behind the divine valleys, I assume?

Multitude of paths? What a cruel delusion!
Woe to you, the one who's crushed by one single revelation:
A movement you once named a "flying"
Is just one of innumerable methods of falling

Many-many ways of life whisper softly:
Come forward and taste the riddle of infinity
Liars in their very essence, they lead you to
A cemetery of handmade gods ornamented
With hopes deadly lost
Whereas great illusions are carved in time

Promethean flame won't ever enter the
Vacuum of Universal mind
Enthrailed ones won't ever be granted the
Freedom they desire...
only a gospel in my blood