[Caym:]
|
...And naught was found
|
in thief's chest but his curse!
|
And loth was he
|
to render up the keys!
|
|
[Caacrinolaas:]
|
All woes will follow you like crows or urgent flies
|
he cries
|
and e'er the oftener the worse shall they become!
|
|
[Peter:]
|
Due west I faintly glimpsed a long dark line
|
Alas
|
'twas difficult to learn from it for certain
|
O anything but hideous hint at death
|
but laughing roar around
|
'Defeat again most likely!'
|
|
...The trail was long cold when I took it up again...
|
Would weeper not have suited it far better?
|
He'd have ransacked
|
and sniffed that ghastly matter
|
as no one else would have...
|
and none's to blame!
|
|
That bloodstained grass did render active all
|
incentives to get shape of holy holt
|
I had beheld in all its splendid horror
|
prosperity in bloom before the dawn
|
|
Trees all around me spoke in tongue of pain
|
and there was no response!
|
|
[Caacrinolaas:]
|
You cry in vain!
|
|
[Arthur's voice sounding from afar & high above:]
|
My brothers and my sisters!
|
Test that seed!
|
|
[Caacrinolaas:]
|
The acorn as the symbol and
|
you'll see
|
|
[Arthur's voice sounding from afar & high above:]
|
Yield of your faith and wisdom shall arise
|
|
[Caacrinolaas triumphantly to Caym:]
|
Your livid souls are freed to plunder!
|
|
[Arthur's distant voice with Caacrinolaas' growl from somewhere below:]
|
Rise!
|
|
[Peter:]
|
All thicket wept and sang this gloomy song
|
'The darkest hour is that before the dawn'
|
|
[Caacrinolaas:]
|
The fault at the conclave
|
had been bearing resemblance with death
|
No more faith
|
Just before twisted roots got entangled together
|
they'd stood holy forever!
|
Hallowed be thy dome and thy brotherhood!
|
|
[Peter:]
|
That bloodstained grass did render active all
|
incentives to get shape of howling holy holt...
|
I had beheld in all its splendid horror
|
prosperity in bloom before the dawn
|
|
[Caym:]
|
Atrociously I am describing the debt
|
so usual in grim and whispering kingdom
|
of your personality
|
nobody met and no one has seen your last will off
|
through the mist of disease silly stranger...
|
you will be deceived by that grove!
|
|
LiAlveL of TMT: I: 11, II: 22, III: 33
|
|
[Oze:]
|
Defeat at the conclave
|
is bearing resemblance with death
|
no more faith!
|
Just before twisted roots got entangled together
|
you'd been holy forever
|
Hallowed be thy dome and thy brotherhood
|
|
-----------------
|
The Darkest Hour
|
Divina Enema |