Within the depths of your subconscious
|
You hear the sounds of the dead calling
|
from a different time and place
|
They are the cold voices of doom
|
|
The images they present fill you with terror
|
The firestorms of extinction will turn the skies gray
|
with the ashes of burnt bodies
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And the only thing left for you
|
to know is your last escape
|
where time and space has become nonexistent
|
|
You return to the world in which you thought you knew
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where life that previously existed has been erased
|
The cold breath of deadwinds
|
howl through the abandoned streets
|
|
As you walk through the charred wasteland
|
and see the desolation
|
you realize you are alone in this decayed world
|
|
The remnants of weak human existence
|
are reflections of the past
|
which is now a fading memory
|
and all signs of previous life have become
|
piles of crimson ash
|
|
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|
The Breath Of A Thousand Cold Voices
|
| Draconis |
