Whipping tears from the sky,
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as the forsaked throne embrace it`s soul.
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With blood on their hands,
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and high-raised swords, the ancient gods command.
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Fading the forest the shadows of the past,
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with the ravens command they march onward.
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Swear by the moon and the stars in the sky,
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as they bend down and greet to their gods.
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A cold mist now hovers their ground,
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as they gather for war, mighty and proud.
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Shadows appear from behind the torchlight,
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slowly arise from the deepest fog.
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The pestering storms, the raging battles forward from the north.
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An ancient myth of a time to come, a black hole, an empty grave.
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A birth of a forthcoming master, the darkening sky.
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The fallen life as the stars die, in the gloom they rise.
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The crowned one`s, of ancient times.
|
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Fading the forest the shadows of the past,
|
with the ravens command they march onward.
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-----------------
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Seeds Of The Ancient Gods
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| Old Man's Child |
