| <When Woods Make Graves> page <Whispers From The Black Lake> album page |
To Feast On The Dead With Nothing But Crows For My CompanyThis beast, lies with rotten scraps of food.Living alone on the last battlefield. Save for the flocks of carrion, To share my feast and recant endless forlorn tales. 'Beware the beast that lurks beneath the tower of ashes, He seeks to bring and end to your rule. In the darkest hours he will be summoned, Under a moon which bleeds with the flesh of man. To placate the beast, You must feed on the countless dead that lie before you.' I hunger for eons, The living have all dried up in this world. I beg to the skies, To sate my thirst for that of flesh. Yet no cries of the dead are to be heard here. Only the howl of the shadow that follows me further. His whispers track my every step, Towards a darker domain, Hidden deep within this verdant stone, A bastion of emerald regalness. |