The Last Of Storms - Dies Ater



Born in haunted

captivity as stars bled



Dusk's bringers of

storm, a degraded rapture of light



Driven by storm,

conquered hazy fields



While fallen

emperors were drowning through the night



An imbrued and tortured

valley, sweet wounds not to heal



Gleaming in faint

moonlight, left for ages...



Distant towers,

covered by mighty shadows



Glancing in a

feral light - realm of ice



Infernal fires

introduce the coming of Hell



Longing for

promised victories - resurrection's storm



With raging

insanity on the Almighty's side



Swords spilling

out men's lives - the battle turns



A wounded,

withering landscape left behind



Where carnal

statues turn to dust



As daylight sets

for the coming of the deciding dawn



A tremendous clash

hits the vanquished battlefield like a funeral storm



And finally as

dark turns to light,



A memorable

solitude of despised souls pushes within sight.



An elemental

light-crushing victory for men, so night shades are free to crawl,



Perpetual sounds

invoking prayers, hear them whisper and murmur.



An obsessed, even

doomed army graced by the devils mark



A devious hunger

for a disgusting feast, strange illuminations to come



Wounds

sinner war

breathing fire



Chaos master

flesh trembling dawn



A burning throne,

absorbing all surrounding delight,



Gifted with cold

supremacy



A tearful, dark

time under the reign of one king



Thundering down

its divinity.

-a



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